


Morningwood

by EveryEmpireFalls



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Blood, Bondage, Canon Timeline, Come Swallowing, Cowgirl Position, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, Electricity, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Facials, Headcanon, Jealousy, Light Angst, Missionary Position, Music, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Rough Sex, S&M, Semi-Public Sex, Sex and Submission, Sexual Harassment, Shower Sex, Smut, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 57,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29576352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryEmpireFalls/pseuds/EveryEmpireFalls
Summary: An anthology of one-shots centered around, you guessed it, morning wood. Some headcanon is present and is explained in the foreword. Primary couple is Eren-Mikasa, though may include others in the future (if requested or I get an idea I like).Trigger warnings are given for each chapter.Rated mature for a reason.
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman & Eren Yeager, Mikasa Ackerman/Eren Yeager
Comments: 56
Kudos: 147





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Preface: This is simply a collection of one-shots focusing on Eren and Mikasa (though I may write other couples if requested or happen upon an idea I’d like to write). I assume you are here for the same reason I am writing and posting such content: because you want MikEren/EM/EreKasa (however tf you want to abbreviate it) action. 😉 So, don’t try bringing any ‘big-brain’ thinking to it (while I hypocritically and somewhat ironically fail to do so).  
> If it matters to you, headcanon for post S4/comic content is that Eren survives, without Titan shifter abilities nor the “Curse of Ymir” and that most of the negative opinions/actions of/by him (a la war crimes and the like) are reduced, diminished, or otherwise righted - for reasons too lengthy to describe here. A partial consequence of this is that Eren relaxes a fair bit and is not as single-minded as he has been, resulting in less dysfunction with his friendships/relationship. I will be following these assumptions for this anthology.  
> You can assume these take place after this time frame, and if not, I will preface or give context clues. I will also give any relevant trigger warnings specific to each chapter as a foreword.

A calm morning dew drips down bright green grass along the shoreline. Sun rays break over the sea's horizon, bringing bright contrast between the blues of the sea and the greens of the isolated grass plateaus beside the coast.

Mikasa wakes first, drawing in a slow breath of fresh air morning air slightly tinged by the ocean spray. Bright white clouds fade to light golden puffs at the edges of her view. She stretches silently.

A quiet moment passes as her mind collects itself from a night's sleep. Her hand rustles past the medium blanket and grabs the red scarf neatly folded on top of the mini camper table beside her bed. The fabric brushes against her nose as she folds it over her exposed neck and face not covered by the blanket. A deep breath filters out much of the salty taste to the air, bringing the familiar warm comfort of its fibers to her nose, tickling her brain.

Another silent moment passes as she takes comfort in the stillness and the pleasant comfort of her scarf.

Eren rustles around under his covers in the bed adjacent to hers in a sleepy nascent haze. He comes to a rest facing her, eyes closed, arms folded comfortably to his chest under the blanket. Mikasa turns to look at him, beaming at him in a familiar, admiring gaze. Her eyes float over his dark hair, resting on his eye lids and seeing the especial, lively sea-colored eyes under them without the need for them to be open. Her eyes belie a wandering mind, moments of closeness passing through her mind from the years passed.

Her hand broaches from the warmth of the blanket. She hesitates as her hand hovers in the cool air between them, the view of his hair obscured by her outreached fingers.

Eren's eyes flash open. Their eyes meet at an uncertain moment in her own mind.

She hides behind her scarf, "Good morning."

Eren smiles back, holding back a gentle laugh at her awkward reach. His arm snakes out from his comfortable pocket and grabs her hand. Mikasa's head further retreats behind her red scarf. Eren's grin widens, "Good morning." Her eyes just barely peak back at him over the confines of the scarf.

His grasp around her hand solidifies, pulling it towards him. In a brief moment her arm is fully extended, her fingers barely touching the confines of his cot. His pull continues, awkwardly stretching her arm into an open, if somewhat awkwardly emphatic invitation.

Eren, recognizing she isn't quite catching on, shoots out his other arm and leans forward towards her. His hand flicks away her blanket, exposing her to the cool open air of the sheltered plateau. She squirms as the cool air washes away the warm bubble of her cot. Eren persists, patting the scarf down to her and wraps a hand around her far shoulder and another around her waist and begins pulling her into his cot over the small gap between the beds.

Mikasa jumps the gap in a hurried rush to get back to a warm spot absent the cool winds blowing in from the nearby sea. Eren quickly subsumes her under the blanket, pressing his body against hers to resecure the warm, comfortable bubble that initially greeted their wakefulness. Mikasa adjusts the scarf over her face to keep her neck and most of her face covered as her eyes timidly dart to his.

Eren's fingers slowly clip over the top of the scarf and pull it down, but not enough to see the warm blush on her face. His shoulders shake the cot mildly as he diligently unfurls enough of the scarf to wrap around her neck and face, allowing her the continued privacy of its familiar fibers. His fingers complete their task, his arms retract to re-seal the cover of the blanket over their heads.

A serene moment passes as the two beam back at one another under the muted morning sunlight.

His fingers creep over her side, his arm beginning to wrap around her back to her waist. A firm pull closes the already minor gap between them, barely recouping the limited space of the one-person cot as they continue their radiant eye contact on their sides.

Her eyes momentarily break contact as she looks down, as if watching her legs unfold slightly, one leg parting his legs and hooking back around to secure herself to him. Eren tips his head forward, gingerly pressing his forehead to hers.

Mikasa blinks, a wide smile hidden behind the cloth he wrapped around her. Their eyes reform a cohesive line to one another.

Another quiet moment passes between the two of them, neither moving as they simply enjoy the moment.

Eventually, Eren moves first.

His head hinges downward, closing the distance between their lips to a gentle kiss through the scarf. Mikasa's blood swells up in her cheeks again, feeling as if even the thick scarf will melt away under the radiance of her blush. Her head withdraws reflexively, but she quickly catches herself. Eren holds himself still for a moment, until he feels her hand writhe its way up between them. Slowly, trying to bide enough time to keep hiding behind her scarf before her fingers wrap over the top of it. She pulls the fabric down, hoping her blush faded enough to not be noticeable as the fabric exposes her face to the warm cocoon between the couple.

She returns the affectionate kiss with one of her own, graciously pressing her soft lips to his now that the scarf is pulled away. She tosses her arm over his back as she deepens the returning kiss, her eyes closing to enjoy the feelings. The warmth of his face suddenly bumps up against her as she feels his body shift, pushing her over to her back and centering her on the cot. His legs press through hers to rest on the cot between her legs, deeply depressing the taught fabric of the bed as he temporarily shifts nearly his full weight on his knees.

Mikasa allows the scarf to fall over her mouth again, shyly welcoming the reprieve as her arms fold over her chest, fingers delicately feeling the red fabric. Not that Eren minds or is paying attention, as his eyes remain locked with hers during his maneuvering.

He pauses, dipping his head into her neck, burying his face in the scarf for a moment as his hand scouts out his hard shaft from its garment. She can feel his heated breath warmly trickling through the fabric of the scarf. A hand courses through his hair, savoring the feeling of his head buried against her.

Just as the she feels the previous blush fade away, she feels Eren's finger trace over her hip and slip under the thin garment covering her hips. The onrush of thoughts races through mind in a brilliant flash. Her eyes widen expectantly, chest expanding in a rapid, anticipatory breath.

Eren's finger yanks the fabric aside in a smooth jerk. He presses himself to the opening between her legs. His hair flashes upward as he lifts his head from the scarf and levels himself to look into her eyes again.

Mikasa's legs rise in anticipation, feeling his thick head part her skin. Her knees jostle the blanket as she locks her legs around Eren's hips, tightly folded against themselves in an acute, upside down 'V'. Eren suppresses a grunt as he adjusts his balance to his elbows aside Mikasa.

He presses his head into her, feeling her warm, wet walls envelope him. Mikasa blinks slowly, again drawing a deep breath as she vainly composes herself to the sensitive explosion coursing through her body. Eren pauses, watching… waiting for her eye contact as a prompt to continue. Her exhale rolls down their bodies. Her eyes flicker open, rapidly refocusing from an obscured sky to the pair of eyes just above her.

A swift – but restrained – thrust envelopes himself within her. Her legs clench up tightly, vicing against his hips as if it were a pivot point while he buries himself in her. Eren lets out a long, throaty groan as his mind begins swirling in the warm, welcoming entrapment under him. His eyelids haze over for a moment, overcoming his focus before he centers himself and recaptures eye contact with her.

Her breath retreats before her, unable to hold a lungful of air with the same determination usually so present in her mind. Her head swirls as if lightheaded, couped up in savoring the feeling of Eren pressed up against her and into her. Finally her chest rises again, her breasts pressing upwards against his chest.

Eren withdraws, then solidly plunges himself back into her in a single, swift movement. He suppresses a grunt again, a bit more successfully now that he has acclimatized. His chest swells as he draws a deep breath, happening to synchronize with her own, making their chests compressing against one another.

The heat growing stifling, Mikasa's fingers lackadaisical hook over her scarf and pull it away from her face, leaving it loosely around her neck while her mind swirls. Eren drops his head, pressing his lips to hers for a brief moment while he is still from the end of his thrust.

Mikasa hazily follows him away as he breaks the kiss to pump himself out and back in once more. Her head arches against the cot, a dull ache for more of his touch.

His pace picks up, focusing more on his thrusts and trying to maintain a steady eye contact with her as he directs his energy to washing her mind about its ecstasy. Mikasa hums deeply, the sound resonating through their bodies as her thoughts string out against the imposing backdrop of rising sexual euphoria.

Eren plunges himself into her more fiercely than before, not taking the time to hold himself within her before repeating the gyration with a greater intensity. He struggles to contain himself, as his body fights with him for a quick climax. He pushes forward, focusing himself on his conscious desire to at least push her over the edge before himself giving into the onrush of the euphoric storm sloshing around within himself.

Mikasa feels her waist heat up with the hypersensitive tingling of Eren's mass stimulating her inner walls. Her chest heaves more rapidly, quickly exhaling and drawing another breath as she grows more unsteady and feels the edge of anticipation rise before the physical peaks of her climax begin waving over her. A pair of fingers listlessly scrape against the side of his abs as her mind fails to maintain situational awareness. Her mouth salivates suddenly, releasing a flood of saliva as her mind suddenly very consciously wanders over the feeling in her whole inner body. A second wave of fluids quickly follows, but instead soaks his hard shaft quickly pumping into and out of her.

Eren feels her legs clench up, then ease, then clench up again as the initial crests of a long-anticipated elation crash into her consciousness and soak into her body in thorough shifts just as he feels his rod soak in the onset of her climax. The cot jolts as her head slaps backward against the cot, an electric tension shooting up and down her back as it begins seeping into her brain; a distinct and mind-bending product of the intoxicating elation of sexual endorphins producing bright flashes of light under her eyelids and the waves of climatic spams.

Eren narrowly misses her chin smacking into his head when it hits her, just as he leverages himself backward, throwing himself into her in a pointed fit. His teeth grit as his awareness slurs and blurs with streaks of euphoric pleasure.

Fighting back against the onrushing feelings, he feels her body continuing to shudder beneath him. Now assured of his goal, he gingerly begins relaxing his mental grip over himself.

The prolific waves of warm comfort drain from her body in a sudden onset of cold flushing through her body, her climax spiking past her subconscious and into full view. She exhales fully, body shivering violently as her skin tingles. Her mind bends inward and warps back outward in a nonsensical cognizance, thinly connected to her environment as her body is completely overcome by the biochemical assault of her orgasm. Her eyes flutter in a daze, barely seeing Eren's disciplined gaze break.

Eren continues for several more strokes, adamantly maintaining his pace and force. He buries himself in her once more, allowing himself a moment to feel his mind flip and his genitals swelling to the point of climax. Waiting until the last moment, he yanks himself from her and groans loudly as his cock throbs, shooting a spurt of cum onto her abs.

Still too faded to fully notice his climax, Mikasa's head continues swirling for several seconds – lost in a euphoric daze centered around the throbbing warmth at her core. Slowly, the overwhelming acuteness of her euphoria fades from mind enough to begin noticing the details around her.

Her breath steadies rapidly, evening out to long, smooth inhales as regaining awareness trickles in more feelings around her – the gentle sting of the cot weave. The heat of the air between them. The sweat dewed on her skin. The feel of a warm fluid leaking over her abs.

Mikasa's eyes flick down to Eren, who's head is once again buried in the scarf as his mind still takes the moment to cool off.

His hair rustles.

They eyes meet again, but this time Eren is the one to blush. A brief burst of air slips from his mouth as he catches himself before completely breaking into a snicker. She runs a few fingers through his hair thoughtfully and with an only marginally suppressed thankfulness.

Eren grins back at her, slowly closing the distance until their lips connect in a blissful moment of mostly sober clear headedness.

He leans into the kiss, letting his body slack as he creeps his arm up until a hand can sift through her hair and grip her scalp, holding her close to him.

A full minute passes, broken only by a pair of very brief breaks for air.

Their heads part as Eren sits upright, pulling the blanket away from them and letting the rising sun warm them directly. Her legs still rest against his sides as he looks down on her wordlessly.

Mikasa puckers her lips, thinking ahead of the moment. Three fingers notch over her scarf and pull it clear from her face again. Eren's eye catches the movement of her other hand, watching with a spiking intrigue as she hooks and slicks a finger over her abs, collecting a finger full of cum. Her eyes shimmer as their eyes meet again and she slips the coated finger into her mouth, sloshing the liquid over her tongue thoughtfully.

_Mm. Salty, but with a hint of sweet_. Her eyes drop away, then swipe up to his face after the moment of contemplation.

Eren appears expectant, but unsure. Mikasa loosens her legs, letting them drop from his sides before suddenly shooting up into the air, straight and tall. Her hands hook under her panties and swiftly shoot them over her feet and flutter to the ground. Before Eren can lean around her legs and catch her eye, her legs fall back to the bed. She suppresses a wry grin as she flexes her abs, slowly creeping to sit upright.

Before their eyes meet, Mikasa slips her hands under and behind both of his knees. In a single, decisive yank she pulls his legs out from under him and his head bounces off the cot with an elastic whack, roles reversed.

In a flash Mikasa is sitting on top of him, thick thighs folded onto her legs at his sides as she peers down at him. Leaning into him further, her bangs curtain around their faces. She rocks her hips suggestively, "Mmm... Can't you go again?"

Eren begins grinning awkwardly, unsure of how he can accurately answer her questioning. But she does it for him, shifting her weight backward and teasing him back to attention as he feels her warmth rub over him.

Eren tries to sit up on his elbows but is quickly shoved back to horizontal as Mikasa plants a hand on his chest and forces him back down. Her hips continuing gliding back and forth. Up and down his rejuvenating shaft.

Mikasa flutters her eyes at him, challenging him to resist. Eren freezes for a moment, processing, then relaxes. She quickly picks up her pace, stroking herself over him until he stands at full mast after just a handful more passes.

She raises herself from the cot and grabs Eren, holding him steady as she lowers herself onto him. Her chest vibrates with a warm hum as she enjoys the feeling of him snugly filling her cavity until most of him rests inside her. She shakes her head briefly, then flutters her hips lightly to enjoy the wholesome plug stimulating her nerves.

The gentle flutter quickly breaks into full roundabout rolling, her hips shifting from one side of him to the other as the top of her brain begins to tingle. A muscle in her chest twitches as his head grates against a sensitive spot inside her. Eren catches the oddity from the bottom of his vision.

Mikasa absentmindedly begins leaning backwards as her pace steadily increases, growing more and more focused on the rising tide rocking around in her waist. Eren sits up cautiously, just enough to reach forward and rest a palm on her waist – thumbing over her waist before exploring south until bumping into the bundle of nerves.

Mikasa hums noticeably, growing more entranced with the shifting tides dwelling in her mind and soaking her body. Eren sits up a little more, looking at her expectantly as her hips step up the pace another notch.

But she feels his abs shift as he rises. In a flash she rocks forward and slams both forearms to his chest, pressing him back into the weave of the cot. The awkward angle cuts off his tantalizing thumb, but no matter. The rapid shift of angle is its own buzz, and she resumes her quickening pace. Her eyes open and close with a desultory haze, barely recognizing she succeeded in pinning him down to the cot again while her head swirls internally.

Eren feels her breathing, hot and heavy. But he squirms, his toes wriggling in an attempt to distract himself from a climax. "Mikasa… I can't.." he stammers shortly, cringing upwards at the sky behind him.

Her eyes flicker open for a moment, a temporary clarity as she goads him to resist, "No. Not yet." She huffs as a mental wave crashes into her skull, "Wait. I..m almost.."

Eren tries to obey, trying to feel the cooler air he inhales than he exhales. The uncomfortable nip of the cot's weave over his back. Anything else.

Mikasa's mind flips. A mental somersault drenched in a sexual euphoria. Her legs clench together slightly and a gasp squeaks from her lips. Somehow, despite the immense tsunami flowing through her body she debates her desire to keep stirring her orgasm against Eren's ability to resist and the tertiary desire to allow him his own climax. Three more turns of her hip feel like an self-contained eternity, but pass rapidly.

She sits upright, allowing herself to sink all the way down his shaft, swallowing him entirely before continuing backwards. Still fighting the desire to use him for her own substance, she presses her hips down onto him, trying to consciously savor the feeling in spite of the semi-conscious storm frothing her head.

She springs from him, heaving lungfuls of air as she fights herself and collapses to the bed below him. Eren almost immediately rises, resting on his elbows again as he feels her thumb flick up the underside of his shaft and weary eyes peek around his cock.

Her tongue flicks against his head, then engulfs him in her mouth. Sinking down until she feels his head tickle the back of her throat. She rolls her head around mildly, unable to quite distinguish how much her head is rolling around from her simple, warped perception of it.

But its enough. As he feels her throat him, his resistance collapses completely, flipping into a burst of unrestrained sensation. Eren's eyes roll back into his head as the climax blinds him.

Cum spurts into her throat. Feeling him stiffen suddenly, she backs off until her tongue placates his head. Seeds spills over her tongue into her mouth as she continues to fight her own climax for clarity of action. _Mmm. Sweeter this time._

The flow stems quickly, and she allows herself to drop his head from her mouth with a wet flop. Her head collapses to his waist, swimming in the prickly, fuzzy glow of her second crescendo.

A sea breeze sweeps up the coast. Eren's hair ruffles while Mikasa's bangs sway over her distant eyes.

She feels the cool breeze tickle her cheeks, reminding her of the external world. She creases her lips and collects herself, just enough to tilt her head back and look over at Eren. Then languidly shifts her weight to her elbows and crawls up onto Eren's chest, eventually slumping on top of him as the final wisps of euphoria draw away from her mind.

Eren wraps his arms over her back, shabbily dragging a bit of the blanket over top of her to break the wind. His chest rises, breathing sharply under her weight causing her to rise slightly. The movement stirs her; her head rolls back on his chest. She pushes against the cot and closes the distance until she can let her head rest over his shoulder on the bed, albeit somewhat awkwardly.

A calm breath fills her chest, "Well… I'm awake now."

Eren's head turns towards her, barely making eye contact with her under the ruffled edges of the scarf and her dark bangs. "Yeah? You sure about that?"

Mikasa doesn't return eye contact and just huffs, her hair curtaining over her eyes again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W and tags: rough sex, BDSM, and facials.

Eren kicks in the basement door with a resounding thump. He stands at the top of the stairs, light shining down onto the steps with his silhouette holding a mug full of a fragrant black tea.

He very deliberately takes a sip of the tea, allowing his shadow to telegraph his enjoyment as he cheerfully chirps at the delicious tea. Before stepping off down the stairs, he leans back slightly and briskly shouts out, “GOODMORNING, SLUT!” then pauses for effect. He sets off down the stairs, left foot first.

A single mild creek yawns from a middle step as he descends. Eren walks barefoot across the cold stone floor, enjoying the cool, still air of the room. He comes to a stop beside the small platform at the center of the room.

Mikasa, upside-down and affixed to the table through several metal clamps and a few patchwork knots, her face still covered in semi-dried semen and saliva from the previous night, looks up at him cheerily.

“Thirsty?” Eren tips his drink forward slightly as he flicks her right tit absent mindedly a few times. Mikasa lifts her head partially, leveling out her throat so she wouldn’t try to swallow the tea upside down. “Ohhh, you thought the tea? No. No, not quite. That’s for me.” Eren smiles, a chipper grin spreading across his face as he enjoys taunting her. He switches the drink to his left hand and gives her face a tender slap with his right. Eren allows his already engorged schlong to rub over her face as he gently rocks his waist beside her face.

Mikasa grunts as she accepts the lack of tea and a complementary slap. Her head drops back to the jury-rigged headrest he set up for her at the end of the night. She feels his warm rod brush over her throat. Expectantly, longingly, she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue with a mild, “Ahhhh…”

Eren takes another swig of tea, merrily watching as he grazes his shaft back and forth over her neck until she opens her mouth. “Oh?”

He steps back, then leans in, pulling himself from the surface of her throat and dips his head into her mouth. She hums expectantly. But Eren only notices a dry mouth. “Well, no no. This won’t do. You need some hydration.” He pivots away to the wall behind him, giving her another caring slap before departing. A large, black fluid bladder full of water hangs on the wall. He places the tea on a small bench against the wall and removes the bladder from its hanger and returns to Mikasa. Tipping the spout into her mouth, she guzzles down about half a liter of water before he flips the nozzle back up aside the bladder, cutting off the flow. “Good?”

Mikasa nods, her mouth open slightly, expecting to be used shortly.

Eren swipes a finger into her mouth, rubbing the tip against her gums and tongue. _Better, but not adequate yet._ He unfolds the bladder again, pinching the tube until she smacks her lips and opens her mouth to drink again. Maybe another third of a liter drains from the bladder until he synchs the tube again and secures it to the bladder. Mikasa immediately opens her mouth following the last gulp; wide and expectant. Eren repeats the same test, finding her mouth fairly well hydrated this time. _Eh.. it will still take a moment to flush through her system._

He reaches for a small dial on a contraption hanging high over her waist. Two dull clicks to the right spark a small yellow-orange gas fueled flame beside a burgundy red wax core.

The first drips of hot wax drip onto to the skin below her abs, causing Mikasa’s eyes cross and letting a gentle moan rumble through her throat. He rubs a hand over her face. “Ah! You’re dirty,” he pulls away a hand gelled with cum and saliva. He wipes his hand over her closest breast until most of the residue is scrapped off. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “Tsk. That won’t do.” Stepping back, he quickly tosses the bladder back onto its wall mount and grabs another, larger one with some internal structure to keep a more rigid shape for an open top.

Several more hot drips fall onto her waist and partially streaming down towards her legs before cooling a shell around the surface, stopping their progress. Her thighs flex into the pain.

Before Mikasa could totally see him make the switch, Eren spins rapidly and whips the container of water over his head. Water cascades over the table with a chaotic splash, soaking most of her body and the table in a layer of water.

Eren thoughtlessly tosses the now-empty container aside, stepping back to her face again. He leans over mildly, looking down at the floor. “Ahhhkkh! Damnit, slut! Now look at this mess you’ve made.” He squeegees a hand over her waist, whisking away the cool water and some of the solid wax formed over her skin.

Mikasa groans heartily as more drips stream over her skin. A pair of fingers tease the nub of nerves several centimeters from the wax drops for just a few strokes before withdrawing. He turns back to the wall in front of her and grabs a small bowl of polished and treated wood. Then pacing back to the side of the table, he holds the bowl under the wax melter and turns up the dial several notches until a roaring flame rapidly melts the wax core hanging above her. A quiet moment passes, only the consistent flare of the flame sounding around the room.

Eren’s fingers dip between her legs again, feeling up and down the valley between them with a joyful freedom of access. Mikasa’s abs flex and her legs crane against the restraints. Her head lifts to look up at Eren, watching him hold the bowl as a fast, steady drip of wax fills the bowl and his fingers explore her slit fetchingly.

He catches her head movement and promptly withdraws his fingers, turning the flame back down to its original setting and withdrawing the bowl of liquid wax. He walks to her front and stands over her, positioning himself so he can feel his mass rub over her face.

Mikasa looks up at him with a pleasant expectance, eyeing him up from around the mass of his cock hanging over between her eyes. She flicks her tongue out, teasing his head in an effort to catch him and pull him into her mouth. Eren doesn’t move, allowing her the momentary control of slipping his shaft into her mouth. His head tingles as he feels her teeth briefly scrape over the mushroom tip and then down his shaft as she raises her head to pull him down her throat.

Eren responds by palming her nose and cheek, rubbing his thumb over her cheek tenderly. He leans into her, flexing his member as it slides down her warm, inviting throat. A groan rumbles through his lips as the warm, enveloping feeling sinks into his head.

His hand tips forward, intentionally splashing some of the liquid onto her chest.

Mikasa recoils at the sudden heat running down over her breasts and chest. She grumbles avidly through the cock in her mouth.

Eren pulls himself back, keeping his head in her mouth before sinking himself back down her throat. The free hand gropes a breast, feeling the solid but warm wax crumble under his hand.

Mikasa grumbles again, but with a more obvious edge of enjoyment this time. Eren’s hand withdraws from her breast and slaps her face as he withdraws his cock, “Quiet, slut.” He pauses, waiting for her to cease.

His head drops from her mouth with a quiet pop as he steps back to the side of the table. He swishes the sultry red fluid around in the bowl, dipping a finger in to test the temperature. The thin film quickly dries on his finger, but the drop accumulated at the bottom remains liquid and drips from his skin.

Extending his arm, he flicks his wrist over her abs. Liquid wax sprays over most of her abs and some of her waist, stray droplets spritzing over her legs and chest. Mikasa’s whole body recoils incontinently, biting back a yelp by gritting her teeth together fervently.

Eren palms his whole hand over her waist, washing the rapidly cooling liquid over her abs in a translucent coating. He doesn’t see it, but her eyes roll around in her head and she silently shudders, her legs flickering in a pair of spasms. He thoughtfully places the empty bowl beside the metal band over her lower chest. His feet come to a smart rest beside her head.

Her head lifts up, near level with her body to look at him. He holds his hand over her face and crinkles his hand muscles irregularly, showering her face with bits of solid wax. She snorts and shakes her head as a small flake bounces off her lip into her nose.

Hot wax continues to drip onto her waist. The greater coat of now-solid wax letting more of it trickle down, eventually tracing down between her legs.

Eren stands over her quietly, observing without outward reaction.

Eventually his hands reach out and cup around the upper skin of her breasts, gradually enclosing the tender flesh entirely with each hand and squeezing firmly. Connecting thumbs to index fingers, he pinches her nipples. Mikasa struggles to keep quiet.

He digs his nails into her nipples as he continues holding her breasts with both hands. A quiet hum begins slipping through her lips. Eren increases the pressure, adding a slight twist to his hands around her breasts. The hum grows louder. His hands retreat, then rapidly scoop up her breasts again with renewed fervor, rabidly twisting her flesh up between his hands. Her hum finally breaks into a chirp, followed by an open moan.

Eren immediately withdraws his hands, causing her moan to cut off with a weary chirp of disappointment. His hand smushes against her face, awkwardly twisting her head from the rather comfortable rest. “I am sure I told you to be quiet,” Eren restates himself plainly.

Mikasa’s lips purse in response, looking at him through the corner of her eyes over his hand. He holds the awkward pose for a moment longer, then drops his hand away suddenly and walks around the table.

His fingers click the gas up another notch and the wax begins dripping more rapidly as he rounds the last corner of the table. He stands between her legs, watching the hot wax drip onto her skin and stream down her waist in natural rivulets. Four fingers press over a thinly hardened sea of wax, cracking its shell unevenly as he drops his thumb down to her clit again. He can see her toes wriggle out of the corner of his eyes.

But it is short lived – his thumb withdraws and his hands wrap under her thighs as he steps forward, letting his head brush against the skin beside her legs. He reaches up and adjusts the position of the melter, sliding it forward slightly so it drips closer to her belly button.

“Lift your head up.”

Mikasa doesn’t move for a moment, intentionally evading him.

She lifts her head from the rest, only barely enough to notice.

Eren’s tone becomes firmer, “Lift. Your head.”

Again, she stalls. But then maliciously complies by turning her head to the side some and raising another few centimeters. Eren slaps a tit.

A cut yelp sprouts from her mouth before she controls it, her head naturally raising in the process. Eren takes advantage, his hands bolting to her head, one grabbing a handful of hair on the top of her scalp and the other a handful of hair beside the ear she’s favoring.

He rams himself into her as he yanks her head up perpendicular to her body, resting his arms on her chest as he beings ploughing himself into her feverishly. “When I… tell you to… do something…” he stammers between grit teeth and beats as he glares at her, tugging at her head with each thrust, “you fucking.. DO IT!”

Mikasa’s lips pucker up tightly as she feels him raving her inner walls, sending electrical jolts of pleasureful scintillations up from her crotch through her abs and chest, quickly trickling into her brain. Her legs clench inwards violently.

He can see it on her face already. “No.” Eren states simply. He continues pounding himself into her as his vice-like grip on her hair continues yanking her head upwards to watch. Her eyelids twitch and lips quiver as the small pool of hot wax in her belly button begins streaming down the sides of her abs from the fierce shaking of the table.

He can feel her flush, his rod soaking in her climactic fluids. He wrenches her hair side to side until he pins her head down to the far edge of the table, “I did not…. Allow you permission…” he beats into her.

Doubling down, his hands wrest her head from the table and emphatically shake her head back and forth with each increasingly violent thrust into her. His fingers loosen just enough to wrap around the back of her head and mesh together, holding her head up to look right at him.

Her trembling lips and eyelids only grow more erratic as the color subtly drains from her face, then flush back into it with a renewed fervency. She barley manages to keep eye contact as he furiously rams himself into her over and over again.

Again, he feels her walls tighten around him and a thinner, fresher flush of liquids coat his rapid thrusting. Her face contorts, lips ruffling as she struggles to constrain a loud and full yelp of satisfaction that would quickly roll into a long, euphoric scream-like chant.

He drops her head suddenly and smashes himself into her one last time before stepping away smartly.

Mikasa breathes deeply, not recognizing how long she was holding her breath as her head swirled around in fantasy land while he was drilling himself into her. The long breath breaks into a pant, her eyes barely following Eren moving around the room before her head crashes back to the makeshift headrest.

The blood pools at the top of her head as the combination of gravity and euphoria still swirl around in her head. Her chest rising and falling greatly with each breath.

Eren steps up beside her. Her eyes flash to the side, eyeing his abs without look up to his eyes or face.

Still panting, she opens her mouth expectantly, sticking her tongue out ostensibly. He smacks her cheek again, “I didn’t fucking tell you you could cum.”

She doesn’t respond – as she should. Remaining still, her mouth open and waiting with baited anticipation.

Eren pinches her tongue between two fingers. She blinks, not expecting the unusual move. “Are you going to do that again?” Eren crouches down partially, leaning in closer to her face until she can see his chin without looking up.

A poorly suppressed grin creases over her face. “Maybleh…” she sputters maladroitly. He flicks her tit with a sharp zip of his fingers. She recoils from the waist up but doesn’t say anything more as the grin only grows. He repeats the jeer, flicking the tip of her of her tits several times in quick succession.

He releases her tongue and pinches a cheek, pulling it towards him as he repeats his question, “Are you going to do that again, slut?”

The skin under his pinch tightens as she openly smiles, “Maybe!”

Eren quickly follows up with another clap on her breast, the sharp sound echoing around in the room. A hand combs through her hair and gruffly pulls down, tensioning her head to the headrest. “Are you… going to d-”

Mikasa barely suppresses an antic snort. She tenses, nibbling at the tiny bit of lip between her teeth shyly before shaking her head side to side with a diligent defiance. Eren peers down at her but says nothing. A single drop of water audibly drips from her hair into the large pool of water beneath the table in the momentary silence. Eren keeps looking down at her, barely making eye contact with her over the crest of her cheeks.

Brusquely releasing her hair with a moderate shove, he steps from the head of the table to the flank end. His palm whips through the open air and claps against the bit of her ass hanging over the edge of the table. Mikasa inhales sharply as the pain shoots through her skin. Eren repeats the motion, aiming for the same bit of reddening skin again.

Her legs flex drastically as the pain laces over her skin, gradually fading to black.

Silence.

Eren raises his hand again, expecting some response from her. But nothing comes. His hand drops to his side.

He waits, watching her chest rise and fall as she breathes. Three clicks turn off the wax melter after nothing happens for a solid minute.

He sees her chin shift, reacting to the surprise of him turning off the wax drip. His hand crests her leg, shaving over the skin between her legs then begins running up her abs to her chest. Three spontaneous presses against her skin crack and break up the wax shell accumulated over her until his hand sweeps over her breasts and wraps over her throat. He finishes rounding the table and stands beside her head neatly for a fraction of a second before turning to glance around the room.

_Ah. Maybe that will work._

He steps off to the far side of the room and lifts four clamps from a wall mount, then whisks a partially padded belt from another wall, and a whip with a series of leather straps protruding from the end. Noisily tossing the clamps onto the table, they clatter to a stop as he unfurls the belt and places the whip on the table.

He shoves the padded section into her mouth. Latching the belt securely behind the headrest, lassoing her head down to the table, then studiously tightens each of the clamps over the loose skin of her clit from the top down.

A moan sweeps from her lips as the first clamp pinches against her skin. A second, louder and more intense moan grows as the second and third clamps tighten against her skin.

The fourth brings a tear to her eye as the pain swells past a threshold and cringes over her face. Her legs quiver.

Eren stoops over her from the side of the table, studying her face with interest. Displeased, he gently runs a finger over the back of the clamps, sending a shiver shooting through her body and a muffled “Mmhh!” squelches from her throat. More satisfied, he continues, running his finger up and then back down, sending the same shock through her body but failing to notice her legs quivering.

He steps beside her and begins lightly flogging the leather whip over her chest as he fondles himself. He can hear her breathing heavily through her nose as his lashes grow more intense and begin sweeping down her body. He skips over her waist and begins slapping both legs in a figure-eight motion.

Several breaths pass as he continues to redden her legs with sharp lashes, then moves back down to her abs.

A very brief reprieve purveys the gap before he whisks the leather against her breasts several times. She groans through the padding in her mouth. Eren ignores her and moves the whipping to the close side of her chest, grasping the far breast in his hand forcefully.

Her legs flex inward again; this time he notices them. He smashes the handle of the whip into the side of the table adjacent to her head in an attempt to intimidate her.

She noticeably chuckles.

He rabidly swipes the leather in a single sweep over her breasts. She recoils again, but again laughs with it.

He repeats the routine, viciously scraping the leather over her breasts in a blur of brownish leather.

Again, her legs creep inward and she chortles even more noticeably. Eren’s wrist twists around the headrest and releases the strap binding her mouth shut.

“What are you doing, whore?” he asks, somewhat expecting an answer.

Mikasa smacks her lips, wetting her mouth. But then puckers up tightly, her cheeks glowing. He sweeps the whip over her nipples again in an attempt to elicit some response, “I did ask you a question.”

She glares at the corner where the floor meets the wall in front of her, consolidating all the physical stimulus in one spot deep in her mind. Eren flicks one of the clamps.

Not a moment passes before Mikasa bursts out laughing, flashing her teeth in her twisted joy. Her head rises from the rest and makes shoddy eye contact with him as she laughs. She continues laughing for another two breaths before Eren jams his shaft down her throat. Mikasa stammers at first, trying to suppress her laugher yet again. But he pushes himself all the way into her mouth, until he feels her hair tickling his thigh.

“Shut. Up.” He snarls, wickedly swatting his hands over her breasts, clipping both nipples in a single motion.

Her legs dramatically flex against the pair of metal cuffs over her ankles as the sting of the swat screams through her body. Eren feels her moan in a convoluted mix of pain and pleasure, warmly vibrating his shaft around in her throat. He pumps himself in and out of her throat a few times, enjoying the feeling of filling her throat and finally cutting off her chuckling.

Long, smooth strokes follow. Pulling his head out until it brushes against her teeth then thrusting himself back down until he feels her cheeks on his thighs. “That’s it.” He taunts, “Got anything else to laugh about?”

For a moment, nothing happens.

Then she chokes out, attempting to laugh even more hysterically. Eren leans into her, adamantly pushing himself all the way down this time. She shuts up, her body cringing as she chokes, and her teeth scrape against his shaft.

Eren holds the pose, waiting a solid four or five breaths before relaxing at all. And he doesn’t pull out quickly, instead walking himself backward like a slow-moving construction project. The tip of his head barely leaves her mouth before he gives her a solid slap on the face, followed by another, and another.

Mikasa puckers up. At first she avoids eye contact, but she quickly finds Eren crouched in front of her and she can’t _not_ make eye contact. She manages to hold herself together rather well for the moment.

But her cheeks flex as it just keeps tickling at her from inside. She breaks into a wide-mouthed, deep-throated laugh again.

Eren does nothing. Watching in a stoic veneer for several breaths as he mulls the circumstance over. Then snorts and drops his head in defeat, “Got’ damn woman…”

Mikasa puckers up again, deftly maintaining eye contact as she controls herself. Eren raises a brow, curious. “Okay, we can play that game,” he answers with a wry smile.

He stands to his full height, wrapping his hand over her throat as he leans back slightly, looking up at the ceiling as he mildly stretches his claves. He rubs his hand up her through to her jaw line then nonchalantly walks to the opposite side of the table and begins removing the bottom most clamp.

Leaving the topmost pincer in place, he tosses the three clamps onto the nearest wall-mounted counter along with the whip. Then pauses beside the table at the center of the room.

He turns towards the wall opposite the stairs. He pumps his shoulders back and swipes at the air in a quick one-two punch with both arms, swiftly followed by a slight jump and a fierce kick with each leg, shouting with each kick. Mikasa lifts her head, frowning at his strange drives.

Her head falls back to the cushion as he finishes, him nearly face-to-face with the wall. He stands there statically, rigidly.

A breath passes. Two.. Four…. Eight……

Eren spins 180 degrees in less than a blink and rampages forward with a single step of his long legs. A single, ultra-violent kick connects with the side of the table. Mikasa and the table leap into the air, a loud clunk sounding as one or two of the metal restraints holding her to the table bounce the table off some of the support pillars aside the stairs and the whole contraption clatters to the ground.

Blood streams from the bottom of his foot, several sizable splinters sticking out the side of his foot at awkward angles from the wood’s failure to hold up to the force of his kick, having buckled and frayed under the pressure. Eren pauses for a moment to pluck the largest four from his foot, then steadies himself with a deep breath. He paces over to her feet.

The whole table leans awkwardly on its side, favoring the once top-heavy weight of the body strapped to it. Without any conversation or even so much as looking at her, Eren folds his legs underneath himself and takes to unclasping her legs from the mount.

The cool iron clatters to the ground as her legs drop to the cold, wet stone. He steps to the side, over the legs of the table and leans over to unlock the main iron brace wrapped over her ribs. She finally groans at the first sizeable discomfort as her hips fall to the ground with a muffled thud, awkwardly twisting her upper torso still attached to the boards.

He steps over her head and reaches down to unclasp the last attachments. Her shoulders thump to the ground. She massages up her sore wrists as she glances up at him suspiciously.

Eren presses the sterile foot against her face, pinning her to the ground. “Do not. Move.” He growls, pausing for effect again. The pressure relieves her head and she watches him lift a bloody foot from the corner of her eye. Eren gruffly shoves his foot against the table, sending it careening across the floor to the other side of the room with an overly forceful kick. The loud clamor fills the room, a sharp crack sounding as one of the legs broke against the wall. Or maybe just the metal studs in the feet of the table. No matter.

His attention swoops back down to the woman below him.

Mikasa barely catches his eyes before she finds his hand clutching a fistful of her hair and mostly dragging her back toward the center of the room. She cringes with a loud “Ahh!” as her scalp screams at her and the stone floor, though wet, pinches and burns her skin.

He whips her around, dropping to his knees as he maneuvers her around the opposite direction – her legs snap sideways and fold against themselves as his other hand grabs her hip and reels her in.

She comes to a full rest on her back, facing him. Her face cringes with the fading pain of her hair being used as a tow rope and her skin scuffling against the stone. Eren scrunches her into a messy ball, her folded legs pressing to her chest as he leans over her. He presses his head to her opening and wraps both hands around the back of her head.

A single, violent thrust buries himself within her as he grimaces in her direction. She squeals pleasurably.

He gives no break, immediately pulling out and forcing himself back into her again with a tremendous fury. Her neck screams at her as he squeezes her together underneath him, rattled with each hammer blow of his hips into her waist. Her eyes flicker, teeth loosely biting her lips in a swirling ecstasy for a moment before recognizing it a bad idea under his frenzy. Eren glares into her eyes intensely.

She maintains eye contact, but only in the brief moments where here eyes are open between thrusts. Her fingers curl in on themselves, fingernails digging into her palms as the chemical assault rapidly sweeps through her whole body. A long, sharp cry screams from her lips as his pounding continues.

Her eyes shut tight as euphoria steeps her mind in an oversensitive wash of sexual pleasure sloshing around in her body. Her teeth grit together intensely as fluid squirts over Eren’s waist. Her cry grows louder.

Eren only intensifies his feverish effort, smashing himself into her repeatedly as he focuses almost entirely against the burning in his abs, thighs, and biceps. He feels her go limp underneath him as her climax broaches into a territory vaguely unconscious.

He slams himself into her once more, the feverishly withdraws and lets her splay out haphazardly.

He collects her arms to her sides then steps over top of her. A knee on each side with his clean leg over top of her abs and the bloody foot against the ground, he grasps his mass with one hand a lifts her head from the ground by her hair with the other.

Firmly fapping himself until his climax explodes onto her bewildered face. Cum streams over her face in odious spurts. Her mouth lackadaisically hinging open part way as she vaguely recognizes what he’s doing.

Only a few drops even grace her marginally outstretched tongue.

Eren stands up, half-winded and breathing heavily. He glances around the room as he regains his composure. Walking towards the stairs he spits at her. “ _Slut_.”

At the bottom of the stairs, he flicks a crude light switch, bathing the room in a poor yellowish light – revealing a disheveled mess of a room doused in water and sex toys strewn about from more than a night’s worth of fun. He reaches the top of the stairs and looks down through the open supports adjacent to the stairs, her face and neck barely in the direct light from the main floor. A satisfied grin as he sees she is still winded.

He throws a clutch of ruff towels down to the base of the stairs, “Clean up your mess.” He pauses, stressing, “ _All_ of it.” Brandishing her scarf over his arm he finishes poignantly, “Then maybe you can have this back.”

Then slams the door shut behind him and walks away.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some fifteen minutes later Eren lays sprawled out over a couch in the main room, his injured foot bandaged with a clean white dressing hanging and over the side to prevent bloodying the couch unnecessarily.

Mikasa appears at the top of the stairs in the middle of the home, now lightly clothed, quietly shutting the basement door behind her. Her head sweeps back from the main door to the main room and catches Eren’s hand hanging over the back of the couch beside her scarf.

Eren feels the scarf slip away from under before he hears her approach. His head turns to watch her rounding the couch. He scoots himself back to make room for her.

She sets down the tea he forgot in the basement onto the table and finishes wrapping the scarf around her neck as she sits beside his waist, then stretches to lay down with him.

“Enjoy yourself?” Eren asks her intently.

She snickers, her head turning back to look at him wryly, “I think you know the answer to that.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W and tags: face sitting, cunnilingus, and creampie.

The morning sun glints through the window, just enough of a sliver between the blinds to shoot over Eren’s eyes causing him to wake early.

He shakes his head from the morning dazzle, his hand reflexively rising to block the bright sunshine from his eyes. His vision recovering, he glances around the peaceful room.

Mikasa still rests beside him, the covers over her chest rising and falling evenly in her slumber. Eren sits up and stretches his arms. He glances around the room, unsure what to do with himself in the early morning. He flops back down to the bed, arms flayed over the open space as he indolently considers the day while trying not to disturb the sleeping beauty beside him. He spends several minutes eyeing the ceiling with disinterest before finally flipping the covers from her legs and throwing his legs out over the side of the bed.

He neatly lays the sheets back over his side of the bed. Her wrist rises up and curls up beside her face, catching his attention. He continues walking, stealing a continuing glance at her sleeping imperturbably until he reaches the door. He silently turns the knob and walks out into the hall, leaving a small gap in the door as he departs.

A few minutes pass uneventfully as Eren begins the process of making a cup of tea, pacing between rooms still unsure what to do with himself between steps. He stands in the hallway, looking into the living room somewhat absently as his mind wanders around its furnishings and trinkets.

What feels like twenty minutes pass, when he suddenly remembers he was preparing tea. He turns the corner sharply and strides into the kitchen, removing the kettle from the flame and swiftly stifling the stove. He opens the cabinet adjacent to and above the stove and pulls out a dark walnut box. Placing it on the counter, he opens the lid with a finger and gazes down over an array of teas.

Lemongrass, earl grey, jasmine… one called “Red Rose Dragon,” and sleepy tea are among the first names he runs across. His hands slump against the counter and he huffs at himself. _Don’t even know what tea I’d like… talk about a languid start to the day_. _Eh.._

He closes his eyes and waves his hand over the box, randomly swirling his hand around until he drops it and picks up a tea bag. A white tea named “Ivory Dragon.” He flips the package around and reads the label: “Ivory Dragon – a white tea consisting primarily of Yunnan providence tea leaves, with a hint of vanilla extract.”

_Hmm. Don’t think I’ve had this one before._ He muses to himself, ripping open the paper packet and unfurling the string while dropping the tea into a fresh mug. He pours the hot water into his cup with one hand and closes the lid to the tea box with the other. Repeating the multitasking, he stirs the tea with one hand and stows the tea box with the other, shutting the cabinet as he peers down to see a dim yellow tint to the tea.

He walks back into the living room and stands at the window, looking out at the rising morning sun cast over the grass outside as he takes his first sip of tea. _Hm. Doesn’t taste much different from black tea. Bit more subtle, maybe._ He takes a larger swig after a few minutes continued to pass by quietly while watching the outdoors. A mild, but distinct aftertaste of vanilla swells over his tongue. _Ah, there’s the vanilla_.

He turns around and walks up to the nearest bookshelf and skims over the labels until he finds one called “Picturesque Landscapes.” He takes the book from the shelf and plops down on the plush chair beside him and begins paging through the book; staggered prints juxtaposing black and white photographs with hand-colored panoramas of the same terrain sharing each face of the open book.

His head down in the book, still holding the tea at his side, he doesn’t notice Mikasa silently peak around the corner of the hallway. She pauses with just her forehead and eyes peeking around the corner of the wall as she watches him flip a page quietly.

She slips back around the corner for a moment, then peaks back around the corner more obviously. Eren catches no mind of her presence as he takes another sip of tea with the book in his lap. Her head elevators up and down the corner of the wall, even wriggling her eyebrows around humorously while attempting to catch his attention by the movement.

_Still absorbed in that book_.

Mikasa steps backward and huffs to herself quietly. Her eyes fall from the ceiling to her feet, momentarily contemplating. A smirk spreads over her lips and she smartly about-faces back to the bedroom.

Eren turns the page to a landscape of a far off, snow-capped mountain. Fields of flowers sprawl out in front of the photographer’s position. He glances at the artists hand-colored impression of the scene on the opposite page: mostly pink flowers. His hand shifts to bring the mug to his lips again, but quickly stops himself as a familiar red fabric flashes over in front of his face and wraps around his eyes.

He snorts lightly, “Can I help you?” He gently closes the book cover and sets it down on the armrest beside him, blindly, as he feels Mikasa’s hands snug an overhand knot in the scarf. She quickly follows it up with another, opposite one to finish a firm square knot behind his head. Eren blindly feels out the closest table and carefully puts down his tea as he turns back towards where he thinks she was.

“Yes, actually.” She responds with an adamant tone, a good deal farther to his right and closer than he initially expected.

He laughs, “Okay, so w-” he begins, but is cut off by her tugging on his ear stoutly. Eren stands quickly with a pronounced, “Ahh!” as she takes off back towards the hallway without waiting for him to finish standing.

“Come with me.”

But he isn’t fast enough. Her grip slips from his ear.

Eren finishes his half-stride but hesitates from being unsure of exactly where he should be going. Mikasa hurriedly steps beside him and plants her hands on either side of his waist and pushes him towards the hallway. She falls in behind him, briskly guiding him through the short hallway and back into the bedroom with a surprising smoothness.

Eren allows himself to be shuffled around, back into what he is pretty sure is the bedroom at the foot of the bed. She turns him around so his back faces the bed. He opens his mouth, prepared to say something but is met with a very firm and curt shove. Perhaps “shove” is mild mannered because her force virtually throws him onto the bed. He can feel pillows rustling the top of his hair. A weight depresses the mattress on either side of him.

He raises his arms, as if to lift the veil from his eyes for a moment to see what she is planning. But she remains ahead of him, her fingers flashing through his hair as her legs overtake his arms. He feels her weight rest on her knees as she quickly nudges herself forward past his chest.

“Ho-”

She sits on his face. Her warm folds of skin between her legs pressing against his mouth and nose. Her fingers scrape over his scalp thoughtfully, “I did say, ‘Yes’.” She asserts.

Eren’s hands slack, now obviously understanding her intent. They still twitch somewhat uncomfortably as he slips his tongue from his mouth and slides over the smooth, wet skin pressed to his mouth. She hums graciously as his tongue presses to her.

Her hips rock side to side, reveling in the feeling of his wet tongue stimulating her. Her thighs clench around his head as the tip of his tongue contracts to a point and roughly skims over a sensitive spot.

“Mmm…” she hums again, “Yess..” her fingers crawl through his hair again. Her weight shifts backward unexpectedly and Eren feels his jaw muscles stretch to compensate. “MMmmm…” her hum grows louder and more intense as a warm sea rises up through her waist. “Yes… Yes, all the way!” her tone heightens rapidly, “Keep going!”

Eren considers vainly mumbling through her to ask her to shift her position so he can obey. But he settles on it being pointless and instead stealthily lifts his arms from the bed and gives her a gentle nudge forward as soon as he feels her warmed flesh. A terse, “Ah!” shoots from her lips at the unexpected readjustment as her hands swat at the bed furiously at first, then recognize what he was attempting as his tongue shoots into her far more deeply.

Her legs flex against his head again, feeling the wriggling of his tongue enter her waist and writhe around deep in her inner walls with an aimless exploration. His hands slowly creep over her thighs, fingers hooking over their crests to pull her down snugly against her face. But she has none of it and swats his hands away from her legs. “Nah-ah. I’ll tell you what to do.” Eren follows albeit with some reluctance, allowing his hands to drop loosely from her legs and instead focusing on extending his tongue as far as he can.

His jaw quickly begins to scream at him as his tongue bats around inside her moist cave. Eren ignores it and persists, opening his mouth widely to envelop more of her skin in his mouth. His tongue withdraws after his jaw insists he retreat. To compensate he flattens his tongue out and begins lapping at her.

But again, she refuses him, “No. Keep going, keep going until you cannot.” She goads him insistently; her gaze drops down to him while watching her fingers grip his hair before connecting with his hidden sea-colored eyes. Eren’s brows raise as he obeys, shooting his tongue back inside her surprisingly quickly. Her chest buzzes with a pleasureful hum, just enough for him to feel it through his jaw and ears from her thighs. Legs flex and toes curl outward into the bedsheets as her mindscape starts dancing, the consistent trickle of endorphins seeping into her brain.

Her weight relaxes some, unconsciously sinking herself onto his face more deeply. He takes advantage of the geometry and really flushes his tongue into her, writhing around at its maximum reach with breathtaking tension. The fingers in his hair slacken, then tense up again as her mind seizes. Eren deliberately runs his tongue front to back, front to back repeatedly following a steady, quick pattern. Her lungs fill the bedroom air with a consistent buzz, breaking into a jumbled “Hmmnnn… Yess…” as her head begins drooping backwards in a real daydream.

His mouth screeches at him, begging to relax instead of stretching himself to his limits for her. He tries to shake it away, literally shaking his head back and forth in the little leeway he has between her clenched thighs. The confines of the scarf rubbing over his eye lids as he does so.

It has the unexpected effect of rapidly whisking away the steadily diminishing gap between her present and her climax. He can’t see her chest rise sharply, but he can hear the crisp inhale and feel the spasm of her thighs as his tongue takes in her fluids.

Mikasa’s mind dances about splendidly. A whirlwind of colors appearing before her closed eyes like a flamboyant typhoon, sending cascades of goosebumps down her arms and legs. Her whole body shivers collectively, her weight unconsciously falling even more onto Eren’s face.

Eren struggles to keep going.

At this point he can barely even keep control of his tongue as it physically begins to fail under his commands. One… two more strokes and he slacks.

He tips his head back for room to breath and inhales deeply though both nostrils. Mikasa barely notices him tip back, even the absence of his tongue washed out in the absolute exhilaration coursing through her body, numbing her extremities and heating her core.

Refusing to stagnate, Eren defaults to lapping his tongue over her. Long, wide strokes from the tight hole up to the bundle of nerves as far as he can reach.

Mikasa snaps out of her daze.

Her hands shoot to his, grabbing them and dragging them up to her bare breasts. Her palms shift to the back of his hands and mush them over her chest wholeheartedly, giving him the blueprint to work with. “Keep up with that tongue,” she affirms. He obeys, blindly groping her breasts as he continues his saliva-soaked strokes through her valley. His hands slowly close around her breasts, feeling her nipples perk against his palms as her hands guide him to an ever tighter grip.

She feels her hips shutter without command. A slow feeling of electricity starting from the bottom of her spine and suddenly shooting upwards, making her back stiffen nearly as suddenly as any lightning strike while his tongue brushes over her clit. Her jaw hinges open blissfully as bright flashes cross over her eyelids once again.

Her hands fall away, leaving him to continue on his own.

More strokes, long. Smooth.

Tasting the dribble of fluid leaking from her and dragging it up to her clit with each pass.

_Faint. Subtle. Just the slightest, faintest tase of a thin nectar._ He catches himself pausing at the thought, his tongue curled beneath the opening enjoying the trickling taste into his mouth. He shakes it off again, resuming his diligent strokes.

He can feel her weight shifting back and forth over his face haphazardly. His arms slip side to side as she subconsciously rocks back and forth with his hands still attached to his waist, eyes shut. The most asthenic breeze rolls in from somewhere in the house, somehow flowing over her skin and triggering her nerves to respond.

Her eyes shoot open in a dilute, supersensitive flutter.

She notices Eren’s hands have stopped groping. They simply hang from her chest absentmindedly. Her head tips forward, looking down at the scarf wrapped over his eyes.

He feels her inhale, as if to speak, but tries to preempt her as he catches his own slumber. His right hand raises from her breast intently, prominently showcasing his thumb in front of her mouth. She catches his intent and leans forward, enveloping his thumb in her mouth, coating it with a thick film of her own saliva. The hand quickly withdraws, firmly pressing against the smooth skin over her waist. His tongue rises to meet the bottom of her clit just as his thumb connects with the top, shooting a wave of stunning pleasure racing through her skin from the bundle of nerves so intensely focused upon.

Her waist shivers tremendously. He takes it as encouragement, keeping his tongue and thumb pressed to the bundle of nerves between them. Sweeping each back and forth in opposite concert, deftly seeking to wash her mind out with another frantic orgasm. The shiver spreads to her legs, drawing a shaky breath as his left hand slowly compresses around her breast and the euphoria of his touches begin to shrink her mind.

Eren manages to tip his head forward, just barely brushing the tip of his nose into a third point of contact. Another shiver races through her; whole body this time. Her chest collapses in a shuddering exhale as her mental landscape suddenly explodes outward then, just as feverishly, collapses inward.

Shrinking inexorably to a pinpoint; an intense density of furious sensation lost in the vast expanse of what was.

A fresh burst of color washes over her eyelids, an awkward, “Eahhhhh…” creeping from her lips steadily as her mind soaks in her own mind-bending orgasm.

Eren moves quickly as soon as he feels a strong clasp of her legs around his head. He breaks his tongue and nose away from her, craning his head backwards again as he shoots his tongue into her while still lucidly rubbing her clit. Smooth, moderate strokes of his tongue in and out of her seeking to extend her orgasm longer and longer.

The warm tide in her waist rises with his prompt succulence. The waters stirring steadily as his tongue keeps her mind mixed and frothy. He feels one of her hands drop over his blindfold foggily. The other hand’s grip in his hair slackens, deepening its relax as her mind sinks further and further away from the present.

The long, “Ahhh!” trails off as she runs out of breath. Her body petrifies, too lost within herself to breathe.

Eren doesn’t pause.

Though his strokes aren’t nearly the exercise they were to start with, he feels his jaw ache and tongue throb as the load begins to add up. Unsure of exactly how much time has passed – a result being so focused on her own lack of breathing as a measure of his effectiveness – he lets his left hand fall from her chest, sheepishly curling a finger under the scarf.

Mikasa’s body teeters about erratically, then suddenly snaps back to. Her hand snaps at his exploratory hand with a sharp crack as she draws a deep, full breath while drunkenly grinning down at him through the blind.

Eren quickly withdraws his hand, letting it flick to his side while continuing the motions of his thumb. He feels her fall away from him, unable to keep his tongue pressed to her ever-smooth skin as she shifts backwards.

He cautiously begins sitting upright as he feels her take a single knee backwards, asymmetrically slacking against his chest. Her weight slips over his chest as he continues to rise, sitting up with the assistance of both hands. She falls back towards the bed, still tied into to the traces of her ecstasy before they completely drain away.

Sensing her fall – deliberate or not – Eren races forward, but not in time to catch her before her shoulders and head flop against the cushion of the mattress, quickly followed by her upper back.

Eren hugs at the air, hoping to catch her, but comes up empty. Feeling her weight propagate through the bed and her legs still aside him, he readjusts himself to wrap his arms under her lower back.

Mikasa’s eyes widen unexpectedly as she watches him lean forward, having been perfectly willing to lie in a desultory haze as the last of the euphoric drips wash way. He lifts her legs with his shoulders, somewhat clumsily draping them over his back as he catches up to her.

“I’m still hungry…” Eren trails off, once more trying to preempt what he was extrapolating her asking. Her thighs readily guide him back to his destination. Her hair twisting up and scraping over the covers as he pulls her a bit closer to himself, neck discommoding uncomfortably with the angle of her back leading from his mouth to the bed. Her hand waves at the headboard.

She inhales, struggling to pull her mind back from the enticing fog as Eren’s lips seal around her valley again. Her hand waves again, this time adding the words to the motion he cannot see, “Pillow..”

Eren quickly draws his left arm away, supporting her weight on his shoulders and holding up her back with just his right as he stretches to pull a pillow from the headboard. Eventually he catches something thin, guessing it to be a pillow cover, and whips the object forward towards her presumed reach.

His guess proves correct, as Mikasa lifts herself from the bed, tugging the pillow underneath her shoulders. She drops onto the fresh cushion, neck much more comfortably aligned with her spine as Eren renews his pursuit.

He buries his face between her legs.

His tongue outstretched to taste her insides as he revels in the warm feeling of his face buried beneath her waist. He continues to support her back, but quickly feels her weight lift from his hands as his tongue burrows its way deeper into her – her mind being tickled and coaxed forward, making her lower body stiffen into the familiar comfort of his embrace. She hums steadily, her noise level steadily increasing as Eren presses forward, anxiously tasting her walls with firm pressure and even strokes.

The enticing feeling holds no candle to her wish for more, rapidly feeling the waves crest over her waist and the same tingling sensations sweep down her body to her head. Her face and arms flush with a cool chill as her legs clench around his head. Heat swiftly follows the cool wave, flowing through her body in a swift mental spike. Her back arches up from her shoulders energetically.

Eren cranes his neck forward, eagerly hoping to get a saturated taste of her cum. His arms wrap around her abs, front and back. Holding her close to him as he tries to fight gravity and bathe in the riches of his victory.

Her hips shudder violently, succinctly followed by a gasp sprouting her lips. Her calves press into his back feverishly contracting her body against the ever-present struggle against gravity, favoring the sensitive explosion between her legs.

Try as he might, he can’t help but only taste the periphery of her third orgasm. The angle too steep against him for the cum to flow over his curled, awaiting tongue. He persists, his tongue wriggling around inside her however hopelessly it may be to get a full, lasting taste of her hot fluids.

Her mind floats around, despite being firmly pressed against the bed.

She asserts her control over herself, mentally whipping herself around to center. Her legs part and her hips fall away from his embrace. She quickly flips herself over and rolls off the bed, dashing for the door without making much attempt to silence herself.

Eren remains still, processing what and why she just disappeared in the middle of the great pleasure like she was.

Mikasa peeks around the corner of the doorway, somewhat impatiently waiting for him to catch on.

Eren’s hands shoot to his ad hoc blindfold, quickly slipping it off over his head. He swiftly casts around the room, confirming her absence. He catches her eyes, vertical as she peers around the doorway with dark bangs draped over her forehead.

The two hold an intense gaze on one another. Mikasa waits patiently as he catches up, a cheery grin spreading over her face behind the wall.

The instant she sees his legs flex as he jumps for the door, she bolts.

Eren appears in the hallway a moment later, head sweeping around the possible paths she took. He bites his lip, clearly upset at her disappearance.

His eyes narrow as he tries to anticipate where she went.

Mikasa watches him briskly stride towards the kitchen through the slats of the linen closet.

She waits two breaths before cautiously stepping out of the closet. She makes for the bedroom.

Eren slides around the kitchen island, checking she isn’t crouched behind it in the only blind spot in the room. He stands straight, mentally slapping himself as he peers around the kitchen in thought. _Of course.. she would not be that simple… gotta be better than that…_ “Hmm…”

He pauses in the kitchen, recalculating.

Mikasa stands adjacent to the inside of the bedroom door, flat against the wall in an intentionally poorly hidden position that should allow him to catch her outline whenever he passes by the bedroom door again… _if he looks._

She hears him stride past, heading in the opposite direction of the kitchen. He reaches his destination and huffs loudly. She snickers quietly.

_Oh… duh…._

Eren calmly walks back the way he just came, belying the mental frustration with himself. He appears in the doorway beside her, head tilted sideways looking down at her with a mildly embarrassed look on his face.

She sneers at him teasingly, a wide smile gracing her mouth as she laughs.

With the upmost nonchalance, he steps up to her. Chest to chest… nearly.

Her dark hair scrapes against the wall as she looks up at him joyously. His hands adorn her sides. She puckers her lips expectantly as their eyes continue to spark.

Eren graciously dips his head, touching his forehead to hers and locking their lips together.

Mikasa enjoys the moment, but as her fingers sleuth upward and curve over the top of his black sweatpants. Her fingers stretch the fabric, oversizing the garb beyond the confines of his waist and skirting around towards his sides.

She bites his lip, her eyes shimmering at him.

His hands fallback, grabbing hers and pinning them to the wall above her as he continues the kiss. Her eyes flicker at him with the mildest irk. Her wrists tense downward, aimlessly resisting him.

He ignores the movement, save for letting his hands drop to another task. His fingers trace around her hips, leading his palms into a hearty grope over her firm butt.

Their kiss breaks.

Eren presses himself to her, leaning more of his weight against her waist-first. Mikasa’s lips thin to a firm line, her eyes flickering up at him again as she feels him grind up against her lower abs.

Mikasa pushes off from the wall, stepping into him and pushing him back towards the center of the room with her hands plastered over his chest. Eren doubles down.

He lifts her off the floor, preventing her from pushing him back into the room. She rolls with him. Jumping, rapidly wrapping her legs around his waist and zipping her arms around the back of his neck. Less than a step later he presses her back into the wall.

The bump jostles their hair, mixing unevenly for a breath before he hikes her up, her legs tightening around him as he quickly pulls down his garments just enough to hurriedly rip his rapidly hardening shaft out from its confines. Their breath heats the small space between their bodies enticingly.

She nods, the pace quickly exploding past a mere nod and into a wordless, emphatic expectation hot with rapid breaths. Her hair rasps against his forehead as she encourages him. Eren leans against the wall as fully as he can, supporting whatever weight she does not hold herself for the moment it takes him to hook his arms under her legs and crochets them together behind her back, a single palm to the wall. Her chest heaves, anticipating the gleeful pleasure of feeling him breach her.

Eren contracts, stooping himself into her gently. A whimper scampers from her throat without delay.

He leans into her again, trying to support more of her weight as he fills her.

A quick withdraw preempts a prompt thrust. Her chest curdles. He repeats himself, finding a more solid purchase as he adjusts to the positions. He feels her arms flex around his back, her heels biting into his back as intense pleasure shoots through her.

Eren tries to pick up his pace, finding himself struggling while trying to use the wall to support her at the same time she supports herself.

He pushes off from the wall, Mikasa blinking briefly as she recognizes him shifting. He plods backwards, eventually reaching the perimeter of their bed and spins around hurriedly. Mikasa continues the effort, instead grating herself up and down on him as he walks them back from the wall with ripples of gratification shooting through her more than the anticipation of its pleasures.

Eren leans over the bed.

He tries to deposit her onto the edge of the bed, but the weight imbalance more tips him over than him placing her on the bed. She hesitantly unwraps herself from him, her fingers hovering over her mouth in a masked anticipation.

Eren begins stroking himself in and out. In… and out. Long, calm, and delicate strokes. He holds her legs together, near vertically just off to her side so they can occasionally meet eyes. A tender blush warms her face.

His strokes very gradually begin building, leaving more pause between each cycle. In. And out. His hands incrementally edging her legs closer and closer to the bed.

Her head, already swimming, catches onto his change of pace as she feels the rotation firing off different nerves within her as each turn brings his cock over fresh nerves. Soon her legs pass the horizontal landscape of the bed and drop down towards the ground. As soon as her legs measure wholly by gravity, he shoves himself into her, pushing her up the bed.

Mikasa groans unexpectedly, tensing rapidly at the sudden offense. She only just catches onto his encouragement, inching herself towards the headboard with some delay. Her knees lift onto the bedspread. Eren’s soon follow behind her.

He continues pushing her forward until some of his shins rest on the bed. His hand snakes up from below her, slithering between her breasts, wrapping its hand around her throat and pulling her back towards him. Simultaneously, his pace picks up rapidly, longer and smoother gyrations giving away to raw, powerful thrusts. Her hands lift from the bed as she follows his grip, fingers absently cusping the fabric below them as her mind begins swirling. She quasi feels his other arm conjoin with the first, pairing neatly and each taking up half her neck, thumbs together over her jugular. His force soon overwhelms her.

Her legs flex inward yet again, sending a slow streak of clear fluid down each leg as Eren feels the warm coat around his ever-penetrating shaft. A long, crisp and high-pitched, “Ooo…” slips from her lips while her mind dances listlessly.

Despite the elation, she feels his drives slowing. No doubt trying to control himself.

He feels her jaw open before he hears her, “Mm.. Mm…” between heaves, “Yes. Give.. it to me.” She barely manages to tip her head to the side and make an oblong eye contact with him for a brief moment, just long enough to convince him.

He pushes her down to the bed, letting his arms fall away from her chest and his hands break from her throat. A strong arm wraps around the front of her neck, catching her between his bicep and forearm and gruffly pulling her head and shoulders up against him as he fiercely presses himself into her in a final drive.

Her right leg twitches uncontrollably as a renewed fervor streaks over her mind, vastly extending the distances between thoughts while her eyes finally roll back into her head. Eren lets go, allowing his climax to overtake him in a long, choppy groan.

Mikasa feels his rod stiffen suddenly, quickly followed by the warm, saturated rush filling her. Her lungs leak another moan, creeping past his arm.

A silence passes over them.

Eren recedes. But the arm around her neck only loosens slightly as the other arm wraps around her waist and reels in the last space between them as they lie together in post-coital bliss.

Nearly a minute passes before Mikasa’s head twitches, finding her breath again in a cool rush of air. The focus of her eyes trickling back into mind, revealing a familiar red blur before her.

Her hand reaches out and grabs the scarf. Burying her face in its familiar smell.

She turns, rolling over to face Eren.

She smiles brightly through the scarf, her smile betrayed by the bright red blush under her eyes. Eren smirks. He leans back, temporarily airing out the space between them as his dexterity smooths out the square knot previously tied over his head. Mikasa watches him silently.

The red flashes over her face as he drapes it over her neck and shoulders, loosely pulling it under her head and wrapping a single loop around her. She nuzzles the scarf graciously, another blush belying a smile. She nudges her head to his shoulder.

Silence purveys the room for a solid minute or two – the ecstasy fully draining from their minds.

Her head shakes, a finger rising to the scarf and pulling it down until her mouth is free from its blind.

“Now what?”

Eren facepalms.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional tags: semi-public and mild angst.

Connie and Jean stand around the entrance to the lobby, clearly bored and impatient despite only having waited for about a minute. Mikasa quietly walks up from their side, Eren following closely behind her to join them.

“What’s their main serving? Eggs, I’m guessing.” Jean sputters, still a bit drowsy and not entirely looking forward to a breakfast served by the hotel.

Connie shrugs, himself a bit drowsy still, “Looks like it, but I don’t know.”

Eren and Mikasa stop beside them, looking around the lobby at the quarter-filled seating arrangements.

A hotel employee, presumably a waiter from the restaurant going off his approach and his clothing, walks up to the four of them. “Good morning! Seating for four?” the man pauses very briefly, either not really expecting an answer or just assuming he is correct, “Right this way.”

“No.” Mikasa cuts him off with an even tone, “We are waiting for one more.”

“Oh, I see. My mistake.” The waiter bows lightly, acknowledging his error, “Would you prefer to wait for your friend, or would you like me to show you a table that will suit your group?”

Connie, Jean, and Mikasa glance around at one another in a muted interrogation. Eren stands, implacably continuing to survey the room – studying the table arrangements, doorways, reddish theming, and occupants.

“We’ll take that table,” Eren points to an unusual semi-circular table with five chairs on the opposite side of the room from them. Adding a light layer of manners over his request, he tacks on a final, “Please.”

The waiter follows his direction, recognizing the table. A pause while he considers whatever order the restaurant seating may have, or some other such guidelines before turning back to Eren and the group, “Very well. Follow me; if you will.”

The four step off in the direction the waiter leads them, winding around an empty salad bar for lunch and dinner times before bee-lining for the table. Eren glances backwards as they approach the table, noticing Armin’s familiar blond hair and figure walk into the area the group was gathered moments ago. He keeps walking, but partially turns around and raises and arm in the air, waving Armin over. Armin catches Eren’s tall figure waving at him from across the dining room. His blonde hair rustles as he acknowledges Eren and begins pacing over to the group.

Mikasa sits first, taking the second chair on the flat side of the semi-circle while Connie and Jean take to the closest seats to the lobby entrance on the crescent side. Eren sweeps himself into the chair beside Mikasa.

The original waiter spreads out drink glasses and fills them with ice water. He pulls an extra menu that was accidentally left on the table at some point and addresses the group just as Armin reaches the final seat, “Your waitress will be Shishan. She will be with you momentarily.” The man walks off, disappearing behind an “Employees Only” door nearby.

Connie wastes no time plopping his elbow on the tabletop and lackadaisical skimming over the breakfast menu as he rests his face on his fist. Jean sits a little more upright as he quickly discovers what he wants and drops the laminate back to the table without second thought.

Armin glances around the group quietly studying everyone. “You all don’t seem all that enthusiastic for our trip today.”

Mikasa hums to herself, barely audible as she muses the options. Eren glances up from the menu at Armin but doesn’t say anything before Jean does.

“Eh, you’re the lead on this one. Not us.” Jean stretches in his chair, leaning back like he would in a school classroom with a mildly interesting subject, “I think we’re more just weary from that hike Eren insisted on yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah? Or are you saying that just because you got a nice facewash when you tripped and slid down that frozen gulley?” Connie’s mood lifts noticeably, finishing with a warm laugh reminiscing at Jean’s unusual clumsiness. Armin laughs with Jean, flashing his teeth as he puts down his menu. Connie continues, adding, “Cuz’ normally that sounds like something I would do.” He chuckles a little harder, “But noo, not this time!”

Eren grins broadly and Mikasa allow a slight smirk as Jean’s forehead shades his eyes. He grits his teeth trying to think of a good comeback, but fails to find anything and simply retorts, “Well maybe don’t distract me while we’re crossing an isthmus, _Connie_.”

Connie snorts at him, continuing to laugh. Eren rips off a piece of his paper napkin and crumples it up, flicking it at Jean.

Jean sneers as he feels the light sting of the paper bounce off his cheek. “Hmm, you didn’t fall over? You seem fine to me,” Eren teases him with a continued grin.

Mikasa drops the menu from her focus and places it over top of Armin’s. Eren and Connie continue to skim over their menus with some disinterest.

Two or three minutes pass in silence.

Connie drops his menu unenthusiastically, “Ehh. Alright.”

A shortish woman with dirty blonde hair of roughly their same age range walks up and stops beside the table, wearing the same attire as the first employee. “Hello, I am Shishan. I’ll be your waitress this morning. Can I start you off with any beverages?” she plainly launches into the typical play.

The group turns to make eye contact with the woman. Eren speaks first, “Yes, orange juice please,” looking her in the eye as she mentally notes his order, then drops his head back to the menu. Shishan pauses briefly as she catches Eren’s eye, almost missing his order before composing herself and continuing around the table.

Armin and Mikasa pass, preferring water. Jean seconds Eren’s interest in OJ. Connie asks for a dark roast coffee with some milk and sweetener. Before anyone can push for main orders the woman chirps in acknowledgement then disappears through the same “Employees Only” door.

The guys look at Eren, the only one undecided. “Well? What is it?” Jean prods him. Mikasa remains static, sitting up straight and proper.

Armin barely notices her right bicep rotate, but pays it no mind. Eren’s eyes open suddenly and sweep over the table towards Armin before catching himself.

He chokes a bit as he pulls his water glass away from his lips and sets it on the table with a thud. Stuttering a bit, he tries to cover himself, “Ah, no. I’m good. Ready whenever.”

Connie and Jean turn to look at one another with a mild frown, but not holding any suspicions.

Shishan returns a few moments later with a small platter holding their drinks, readily distributing the orders to the handful who ordered. She sets Connie’s coffee, milk additive, and sugar down on a small saucer beside him. She slaps the tray to her side crisply, “Good? All ready to order now?” She asks, looking around the table seeing all the menus set aside.

She collects their orders quietly, jotting them down on a small notepad as she stands beside and behind Jean and Connie. Eren grimaces strangely again just before Shishan’s ordering walks around to his turn.

Armin and Jean frown at Eren, bothered by his rather marginal manners today. Eren tries to ignore them and orders a very light meal, essentially a side dish. As Shishan pauses to scribble down his order, Mikasa speaks up in another even, matter-of-fact tone, “You should eat, Eren”

Eren squints at her, his head turning towards her very slightly. A growing rumble builds from his throat, but chokes it back before anyone else hears.

Mikasa remains straight and proper – appearing to ignore Eren’s strange behavior and overlooking any of the looks Armin and Jean give Eren.

Shishan ruffles her brow as she turns to Mikasa. Mikasa perks up slightly, looking up from a level gaze to meet the waitress’s eyes; requesting a fairly sizeable egg dish before Shishan moves on to Armin. Another moment passes as she writes down the final order then quickly excuses herself.

Armin leans back in his chair comfortably, catching Eren rocking his head back and forth as if stretching. He completes the motion and leans forward on the table, clearing his throat before mildly turning towards Armin, “Armin, you said the ferry leaves in an hour, right?”

Armin nods, “Yup. And it will take about twenty minutes to walk down to the dock.”

Eren nods with an excessive exaggeration, “Okay. Cool.” He pauses a moment, then continues, “So we should probably eat fairly quickly, then.”

Mikasa interjects suddenly, “We’ll need to return to our room before we leave, in that case.” Jean waves a hand in acknowledgement. Connie tests the temperature of his coffee, drawing a deep breath of its inviting odor.

Armin notices her right bicep flex again, seemingly rotating inconspicuously.

Connie moans unconcernedly, his head sweeping up and around the room’s large ceiling, “Ahh, whatever gets us there.”

Eren tips himself forward again, wiping a hand over his brow quickly and stealing a sideways glance at Mikasa. Armin’s attention centers on the pair as he notices Eren’s left arm rotate similarly to Mikasa’s.

He quickly connects the dots.

Armin stoops over the table – a slow facepalm covering his face, suppressing a resigned groan, and a mild, humorous snort.

Mikasa continues to ignore virtually any external inputs to her senses, sitting up almost straight and prim, albeit now somewhat more against the backrest of the chair than before. Eren’s fingers slip between her legs in a noiseless retaliation.

Her first audible breath flows over the table. Jean and Connie pay it no mind. Armin turns his head away, more towards the two absentminded guys beside him in a desire to be separate from the subtle squall.

Eren scrapes a fingernail over her crotch, catching the rumples of her pants. Her upper lip trembles almost imperceptibly. Now on the offense, Eren presses his attack. His fingers roughly scrape against the fabric between her legs just as he nods his head towards Connie, “You’ve really taken to coffee since we’ve gotten off the island.” Eren prompts Connie, “How’s that cup?”

Connie finishes a swig, tasting the dark roast before adding his preferred milk and sugar. “Hmm.. Pretty good actually.” He pinches the sugar packet, pouring some of it into the black liquid, “Still like to tone down the bitterness, though.”

Eren’s fingers complete another pass, quickly sinking his whole hand between her thighs and grating four of his finger nails up her crevice. Mikasa audibly moans, but remains even enough from the others’ perspectives to just appear as if she was thinking out loud. Still, they give her a momentary, puzzled look. His fingers trace back down her thighs.

Her arm twitches, trying to catch his hand before he asserts another stroke. She looks at him from the corner of her eye. Eren meets her sideways gaze, letting a faint grin crease over his face as he completely faces her. Connie coughs unexpectedly.

Eren and Mikasa both snap to him, openly embarrassed. But Connie merely looks down at his coffee with a disgusted look, “Ah! This milk is bad!” He sets down the coffee with a clatter and waves an arm in the air as he notices their waitress by the empty salad bar. She turns and begins walking over.

Eren and Mikasa glance at each other momentarily, collectively sighing as the waitress approaches.

“Something I can help you with, Sir?” she comes to a smart stop beside the table.

Connie points at his coffee, “Yeah. I’m going to need a fresh cup and a _different_ milk. This is spoiled.. or something.” he ruffles his nose as he indicates the milk additive she had given him.

Shishan apologies and removes the cups from the table, setting off towards the kitchen.

Connie leans back in his chair with his arms over top of his head, sighing at the disappointing break in his coffee. His head shifts around as he finds a comfortable position for his arms. “Mikasa, why’re you so stuffy this morning?”

Eren leans over the table some, resting his exposed elbow on the table and looking at the woman beside him expectantly. His left, hidden eyebrow raising with a juicy ironic intrigue while doing his best to suppress a grin. He tries to run his hand back up her valley, but her hand holds him steady.

He uses his fingers instead.

Mikasa resists the temptation to look back at him, instead meeting Connie’s bored gaze, “Eh. Still just a bit drowsy.” She pauses heavily, “And distracted.”

Connie “Hmms” without second thought, slumping into his chair even more as he waits for his food. Eren waits another breath before retreating, himself slumping back in his chair nonchalantly as his hand struggles against Mikasa’s increasingly iron grip. He tugs on his hand, giving up.

For now.

A few minutes pass in relative silence, just a few short exchanges between Armin and Jean regarding something about a historical site near their destination – Eren, Mikasa, and Connie aren’t really paying attention, albeit Eren and Mikasa for very different reasons.

The “Employees Only” door opens briskly, Shishan backing out as she holds a pair of trays with their orders.

She carefully stoops up to the table and sets down Jean’s plate first, quickly followed by Eren’s. She sneaks a sly glance at him as she skirts his plate in front of him. Her dirty blonde hair furls outward as she turns and walks around the table to give Armin and Connie their food. Then curtly places Mikasa’s plate. She stands up straight, glancing over the five heads as she takes a breath, “Anything else I can do for you?”

Armin looks up at hear graciously, “No, I think we’re okay. Thank you,” he finishes warmly.

Shishan nods briskly, then hesitates for a second before walking away. Armin glances up at Eren, briefly studying him to see if he noticed Shishan’s behavior at all.

Eren, either oblivious or completely ignoring it, takes to his morsels of food. As do the rest of them, eating in a relative silence only broken by the occasional clinking of silverware and other patrons’ conversations.

Eren, nearly finished well ahead of everyone else because of his smaller helping, allows his left hand to slip below the tabletop again. Mikasa immediately notices his movement, but does nothing to stop him as she is in the middle of cutting the remaining half of her omelet. His fingers creep over her leg, slowly and deliberately like a stalking spider.

He sighs loudly as he finishes his food, slumping back into his chair again while his fingers crawl over her leg. Mikasa slips a forkful of egg into her mouth and chews slowly, feeling his fingers dip into the warm area between her legs again. She breathes deeply, her fingers turning white on the silverware in her hands.

Armin notices her tense suddenly and fails to suppress a glance at Eren as a result. He sees his arm shift under the table. Armin frowns at Eren from the corner of his eye, though he remains oblivious to Armin’s vain eye daggers.

His fingers creep all the way into the crease between her legs.

Eren gestures at a painting hung on the wall behind Jean and Connie, “Jean, is that artwork of the 798 Hizuru flash-point in Shigamitsu?”

Jean furrows his brow at Eren, then hesitantly turns around part way and glances at the wall Eren gestured at. Connie follows Jean with a spade of curiosity.

Eren buries his hand between Mikasa’s legs with an adamant energy. He grips her thigh and jostles his hand back and forth fervently as Connie and Jean look away. Mikasa presses her wrists to the table to steady herself.

“Eren,” She quietly interrupts him, a growing awareness of her discomfort with the situation. She focuses on trying not to blush, however difficult.

Jean turns back, “I’m not sure. Kind of looks like their infrastructure and military equipment though. But how would I know?” Eren rapidly eases off, merely keeping his hand between her legs as he looks to respond.

“I know you said you have been studying the military history of some of these new nations we’ve been learning about, especially as we explore them,” Eren begins explaining. “I was curious if you happen to know.”

Jean muses out loud, “Eh. Well, most of what I have read about Hizuru so far has primarily been the differences between their military strategy compared to others, especially Marley. Maybe better to just say the difference between titan and non-titan augmented warfare, actually.” He waves his fork in the air and resumes eating, “That stuff mostly.”

Mikasa feels his fingers flare. His fingers resume a steady pace, itching back and forth over the seam in her pants with the subtleness of a cat looking for food from its owner.

“Have you re-” Eren continues the conversation, but is quickly cut off.

“Babe…”

Everyone at the table pauses suddenly, casting an eye at Mikasa’s unusual choice of public words. Armin’s previously mild furrow deepens to an open frown.

Eren looks at her, trying to mirror the somewhat unusual attention the rest of the table gives her while keeping a smooth tone, “Hm?”

The clinking of silverware returns to the table with some hesitation, but their attention remains partially focused on the interaction between the pair. Jean eyes Eren suspiciously, but says nothing.

Mikasa says nothing more, simply drooping her head slightly and looking directly at him – her eyes flaring carefully. She catches his attention fully, a silent exchange between them occurring rapidly. He withdraws his hand placably and takes a swig from the remaining OJ in his glass.

“Okay,” he begins to stand, looking down as he counts out some cash and drops enough to pay for a little more than three of their meals. “I need to stop by the front counter anyhow,” he pulls out the room key and drops it on the table beside Mikasa, “I’ll meet you in the room afterward…” he tries to choose his words carefully but finds himself largely walking into the blind and his brain just reaches out for the first thing it finds comfortable enough… or something, “Beautiful.”

Eren walks away without pause. _Ehh… smooth Eren.. real smooth._ He brushes his lip absently as he rounds the corner of the salad bar and leaves the restaurant.

Mikasa tips her head towards her plate, occupying herself with her food while using her bangs to cover her face.

Armin stares at Eren as he walks away, then silently observes Mikasa for several seconds before finishing off his plate.

Jean drops his fork, disinterested in the remaining food as he stretches a lanky leg out from the side of the table and groans.

Shishan strides up to the table, noticing Eren’s absence well before reaching the group. “Are you all set? Should I bring the tab for you?” she pauses briefly as most of the group refocuses on her, “Separate or together?”

Armin answers first, “Together.” His hands tuck away under the table briefly and pull out the remaining money necessary to pay for their meals. He hands the cash to Mikasa, finishing his thought, “This should cover it.” Mikasa neatly spreads the bills in her fingers without looking at the waitress before dropping them overtop of the money Eren left previously.

Shishan fingers the cash and leaves wordlessly.

Connie finishes the replaced coffee and tips it back onto the saucer, “Welp, I’m ready whenever.”

Armin nods, “Me too.”

Mikasa drops her fork despite a few more bites remaining on her plate, “Likewise.” Armin looks at her intently, studying her with his familiarity of mind interested in her clearly ruffled disposition.

Jean stands, waving a hand over his shoulder, “I need to hit my room again first as well. I’ll meet you guys out front in fifteen.”

Connie stands too, following Jean. “I saw a coffee shop across the street earlier; I’ll be out front later too. If not you’ll know where I’ll be.”

Neither of them acknowledge the pair leaving, everyone assuming the same game plan for the day. Armin looks at Mikasa, now more relaxed but still clearly preoccupied. But he is unsure if he should say something.

Armin waits for the waitress to return with their change – he is unsure why Mikasa remains for the time being. Their silence continues.

Armin shifts around, not wholly comfortable remining quiet about his suspicions, even if some of it is based off of the privacy shared between the couple. “What’s wrong?”

His question catches Mikasa off-guard. She looks up at him with an unexpected, “Hmm?” then breaks eye contact just as suddenly. “Oh… uh..”

Armin leans in, trying to increase the privacy of the conversation. He pushes his dishes aside, leaning on the table heavily as he ponders how to continue his approach. But very few coherent thoughts come to his mind that he feels he could say comfortably. His mind skips over several options, dismissing each for many of the same reasons of confidentiality or simply poor wording.

Shishan reappears, placing a single bill and a few coins on the table. She turns and stalks away in a single motion, “Good day.”

Armin furrows his brow again, this time following Shishan’s back as she walks off. She walks through the employee door again and vanishes from sight. Mikasa hands the money to Armin.

“Is it that waitress?” Armin starts, readily catching Mikasa’s attention even though she wouldn’t readily admit it. “I noticed she seems to have a thing for Eren. I doubt you missed it.”

Mikasa stares at him somewhat blankly, but he knows her too well to be dissuaded by an opinion that her face contains no information. Armin snorts in response. “Do you think Eren even noticed?” Armin clears his throat roughly as he prepares his words ahead of time, “Ahe.. mm… while he was in the middle of…” Armin tries not to say it directly, instead dipping his head towards her just as Mikasa used her bangs to cover her face, completing his thought, “Y’know.”

Mikasa blushes fiercely, more fully recognizing the extent to which Armin was completely aware of their mischievousness. Her head tips forward to hide behind her bangs again, but recognizes how fruitless the attempt would be with Armin and quickly catches herself. She doesn’t say anything.

Armin nods in the direction of the hallway to their room, “Go talk with him about it.” He follows up his suggestion with a reassuring smile.

Mikasa remains still for a moment, looking back at Armin before standing up steadily. A gentle smile broaching her face, “Thanks, Armin.” He nods briefly in acknowledgement, preceding her departure.

Armin waits a minute as he finishes contemplating breakfast, finishing off his water before standing and leaving the restaurant.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mikasa turns the corner into the long hallway toward their room. She sees Eren leaning against their doorframe far down the hall, looking her direction. She keeps her pace steady as she closes the distance.

Her hand pulls out the key and smoothly slips it into the keyhole without speaking. Eren looks down at her with a soft, considerate gaze. She opens the door and he follows her into the room.

The moment the door shuts behind them, Mikasa spins around to face Eren. But instead finds herself wordless, her hands up in a confused offense-defense argumentative position. Eren grabs her hands gently, pausing until they both feel their warmth. Slowly, he pulls her into him.

“I’m sorry,” Eren admits to her earnestly.

Mikasa pouts, more at herself than at him, “No. It was me, I started it.” Her head droops again, hiding behind her bangs, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Eren breaks a hand from their embrace, running his fingers under her jaw and tenderly lifts her head. “Don’t be,” He tries a reassuring smile, but finds it lacking.

Mikasa parts their hands and rubs her head, stepping away from him without saying anything more. Eren lets his hands drop to his sides with some palpable disappointment. Sensing her needing a bit of time he glances behind him, double checking the location of the divan before pacing backwards and dropping himself between two of its seat cushions. He stretches his arm over its backrest and raises a leg to rest on the other while he watches Mikasa finish pacing after a minute or so.

She stops a little more than an arms length away from him. “That woman… our waitress.”

Eren ruffles his eyebrows, pulling the fragments of his memory of her back into mind. “Yeah?” he filters in the topic, “What about her?”

Mikasa finds herself unsure how to phrase the rest of her turmoil, partially because of the unclear storm rolling around in her head, partially because it just feels so obvious.

Eren catches onto the pieces quickly enough, though. “Oh,” he exhales deeply, almost chuckling out loud. “Mikasa, since when do I care?”

Mikasa’s mind races over the past years faster than she can keep up with: brief snippets of conversation and the bits of time he spent with Historia and any other women she can think of over the years. Especially those while he was cold and distant to her and the rest of the group…

He catches up with her thoughts too slowly, but tries to act decisively the best way he knows how – Instinctively.

Eren’s upper lip and nose crinkle, fighting with the overwhelming desire to lay down the law with the familiarity of their tempered violence. But despite the conditioned response, he fully recognizes the obstacle as one that cannot be physically battled until one or the other remains standing. He breathes deeply, his face hardening as he consolidates his raw determination and the emotional fury he innately wants to unleash on her in order to right perceived wrongs... or simple misunderstandings.

“I love you.”

It almost just bursts from his lips.

It… _does_ just burst from his lips.

His intense glare at the innocent carpet flicks off as he snaps his attention to her face, taming his look to a resolved stare as their eyes meet.

Mikasa feels her heart flip around unexpectedly as the words sprout from his throat. She stands over him, something akin to stunned. Her breathing pauses.

_But… I’ve known this. … Why am I so… ‘ehhh’, now?_

Her figure softens slightly from a firm, entrenched stiffness.

Eren breathes, his eyes closing for a moment as he mediates himself. His figure too… relaxes.

An uncertain moment passes between them. He breathes deeply again, noticing she fails to do so.

Eren tightens his resolve again.

“Hey,” he leans forward pertinaciously, “Hey, come here.” His fingers whip around the air, motioning her towards him.

She hesitates, looking at him with some distance.

Eren closes the distance hastily, catching a loop on her jeans and firmly pulling her towards him. His arm sweep under her legs, the other snagging around her waist before he hefts her from the floor.

She allows him to act as he does, though herself unsure of where he is going with it.

He squeezes his arms together, pulling her over his lap with her legs bunched towards her chest. His hands connect on the opposite side of her and he looks at her with the familiar, determined intensity she knows well of him.

“This-” he squeezes her in his arms, “is mine.” He lapses his grip, then reaffirms it as he nuzzles his head against hers, “You’re mine.” Mikasa blushes slightly, but the rush in her head still lingers. His arm steadily releases her legs, letting her rest them on the ground as she will. He keeps his head to hers for a long moment, hoping the moment sinks into her mind more deeply than he sees it on her face. Eren’s free hand rises up to her face again, gingerly pressuring his thumb to her cheek and his palm over her jaw until their faces line up squarely.

His oceanic eyes pierce her attention brightly, exuding his ever-present willpower as he seeks the sparking behind her slate eyes. His hand falls away from her face, but not before conscientiously drawing a finger over her forehead, precisely standardizing the trident of her forward hair.

Her smiles at her warmly, a hand rubbing up her back.

Mikasa takes a deep breath, her eyes closing as she ruminates.

_Drop the rope…_

She exhales a long gust of air before her eyes flash open and a genial smile warms her face.

“I love you, too.”

Eren smiles back, much more widely this time – breaking into an outright grin as his eyes dance back and forth between hers. His hand stops and presses against her back as he leans in and kisses her.

Mikasa returns the pressure, her lips interlocking with his in a warm glow. Her hand coaxes up to his face, brushing over his cheek and over his ear and hair. The kiss deepens as she feels the warm, enticing tide rise inside her once again.

Eren holds the kiss for several more breaths, then breaks away. His eyes skim up the wall to the clock, then out the window. “We should get going, they’ll probably be waiting for us again.”

Mikasa bottles up the ticklesome desire, breathing as she stands, “Yeah, you’re right.” Eren follows her to his feet.

She grabs a bag they’ve already prepared and throws it over her shoulder as she makes for the door. Eren lingers behind a moment, a fresh grin suiting his lingering as he eyes her up and down with the similar ticklish feeling confined by time and circumstance.

The door hinges open with a long, creaking yaw and Mikasa steps forward to go through the doorway.

A vaguely muffled clap rumbles through the empty hallway; Eren giving her a firm, hearty spanking before they leave the privacy of the room. Mikasa walks out into the hallway, turning her shoulders back towards him as she entertains the creeping buzz in her chest for a few more moments while their eyes meet in the hallway.

“And you are beautiful,” Eren reaffirms his previous utterance with a heartfelt grin.

A sly smirk streaks across the pair of faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, misfires happen sometimes. Besides, it wouldn’t be AoT without some angst/dysfunction now would it…
> 
> I think its time to get another collection going, because - naturally - "Morningwood" largely limits the setting to the morning or after naps, which means I discount more than half the ideas I actually post.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W and tags: music, shower sex, cunnilingus, and facial.  
> Modern AU.  
> Song #1 is Imagine Dragon’s “NATURAL.” Song #2 is The Cab’s “Angel With a Shotgun.” Naturally, I strongly advise listening to them if you have not already; they should both be available via YouTube, YouTube Music, Apple Music, Spotify, Soundcloud, and other music streaming services.

Eren wakes with a fresh breath of air. He blinks a few times, adjusting his eyes to the morning sunlight filtered through the fabric blinds.

He glances around the room, noticing Mikasa’s absence before recognizing the gentle hush of running water through the pipes in the bathroom. The consistent hum of the end of a song’s crescendo beginning to taper off through the partially closed door.

Eren groans over the dull throb of a morning erection. At first unhappy he’ll have to get up to encourage his business, he quickly warms to the idea of intruding on Mikasa’s shower with a pointed goal. He whisks away the covers and throws his legs over the edge of the bed, standing quickly and pacing over to the door without delay.

Finding the crack in the door without a line of sight to the shower, he gingerly pushes the door a little farther in until he sees the familiar skin-colored blob of Mikasa’s figure through the partially frosted shower glass – he can just make out the crest of her head over the frosting, her black hair wet and matted to her scalp. Eren pauses and continues watching her silently, enjoying the momentary voyeurist stalking. He sees her hands slick through her hair, then the clear dark blob of her head disappears from the steamy, unfrosted window. Her figure tips away from him, an arm skimming over her leg in a long, slow stroke.

The Bluetooth speaker fades to silence as the song ends.

Eren pushes the door open, silently stepping inside and whisking the door back to its original position. He looks at the shower, checking she is unaware of his presence as he finishes the door carefully.

Her figure is still stooped over.

He quietly tiptoes over to the sink, stripping the only clothing from himself and tossing it against the wood below the sink. Throwing an extra towel into the corner of the countertop adjacent to the shower stall, he keeps an eye on her figure through the frosted glass.

The silence of the speaker breaks, the familiar _“Mmmm… MMmmmMMmm…”_ of Imagine Dragon’s “NATURAL” beginning to hum through the bathroom.

_“Will you hold the line…”_

Eren steps closer to the shower glass.

_“Will the stars align?”_

Eren grabs the speaker and shifts it over the counter, staggering the movement between lines as he tries to get it closer to the stall so he can reach both the speaker and the door handle without moving. He hopes the boxy room refracts the sound well enough that she can’t hear him moving the speaker. He stands beside the shower stall’s junction, pressed up against the wall to better hide his outline from the lighting of the room.

_“Rather be the hunter than the prey…”_

The chorus begins. He can see her jaw mouthing along with the song through the blurry outline.

He waits patiently, enjoying the view as she enjoys the music in the hot shower.

_“What’s happenin’?”_

Eren peeks over the edge of the frosting, looking down at her naked body facing away from him as she shaves her legs.

_“Lookin’ through the glass, find the wrong within the past knowin’…”_

His fingers clasp over the handle, slowly increasing the pressure to open the door.

Before he can either crank up the speaker or open the door, she ruins his attempted surprise, her voice curling over the top of the shower stall, “Good morning, Eren.” She finishes a stroke of her razor, standing up and turning to look at him peering over the frosting with an enthusiastically disappointed and arrogant, smug grin – she was well aware of his approach.

_“A bit of the truth… the truth…”_

She laughs at his clear disappointment, “You’re not a _natural_ sleuth, Babe…” her teeth flash, the smug grin only growing.

Eren groans irritably, ignoring the speaker plan and simply opening the door to step in with her. He pushes past his dissatisfaction by wrapping a hand around her waist, as the other closes the door behind him. She holds his gaze as he steps into the shower with her.

Mikasa brushes her bangs aside as a thick stream of water follows her hair over her eyes, smile still broad and bright, “Got something on your mind, Babe?” She teases, knowing full well where his focus lies.

Eren says nothing, letting his body do the speaking as he cuddles up to her tightly. She can feel his warm rod press against her back before the rest of his body catches up with her, wrapping himself around her.

She tips her head back to his shoulder as his head comes between her and the showerhead, continuing to keep their eyes together as his movement slows.

_“And you’re standing on the edge, face up ‘cause you’re a…”_

The second chorus breaks into song, but the music quickly fades from his mind as his attention drops away from his initial approach.

Her eyes flicker at him intensely, challenging him to coax her into more than just a shower. Eren briefly considers the fact that she left the door partially open but chooses to ignore words as his tools.

His touch is slow, tedious. Creeping over her skin like the slow, persistent crawl of lunar tides over the planet. He feels her head press into his shoulder, solidifying her challenge as she lets her arms dangle aimlessly while their eyes spark. The digits of his hands encroach over her waist, dipping below the usual line of her underwear with diligent fingerwork. The tips of his fingers land like a stalking cat, steady pacing so long as he has eyes on his ‘unsuspecting’ target.

He feels her rock side to side against his chest, taunting him like she’s still waiting for the temptation that hasn’t already crept into her brain.

Her lips curl inwards as she feels his fingers graze over the loose skin between her legs. Her legs straighten, tightening firmly with a single weave. His fingers continue. Three prongs, one on either side and a single one down the center as they slide over wet skin. A long stroke, diligent and determined coasts right past the bundle of nerves as he reaches for a deeper target.

The tip of his middle finger teases her opening, just barely penetrating her. Her shoulders rock side to side again, her mind rabidly stamping out any facial expressions she may have that would compromise her guised desire.  
His fingers retract the same way they approached, but fast. Much faster.

Then sweep back in with a renewed fervor.

_“I’m gonnnaaa make iiiiittttttttt….”_

And retreat just as readily.

A fourth finger joins the coup. Two on either side. And two down the middle, parting like the Red Sea as they wash around her nerve. Two fingers tease her opening.

And retreat.

And repeat.

And repeat…

He presses another stroke between her legs. Her eyes flicker brightly, her dull slate eyes anything but. He knows he has her under his fingertips

_“NA—TUR—RAL…”_

The song cuts off as her phone selects the next song from her playlist, a momentary lapse in sound aside from the steady spurt of the water over their bodies.

Eren surges forward, carefully pressing her towards the wall. He calculates her head a few centimeters from the wall, then feverishly presses her face against the cool polished ceramic. His hand smushes against her face, plastering her against the wall.

The speaker moves on. Mikasa immediately recognizes the song. But Eren is too distracted with his calculated windings to pay it much mind.

She hums, as his arm wraps around her side and dips between her legs again. His fingers work quickly, wriggling through her valley until feeling the inviting hole between her legs and quickly dipping into its tight, soaking embrace.

_“Oh yeah… oh yeah… oh yeahh…”_

Her lips crease under his hand, a wide grin creeping over her face under his hand. He barely feels her legs flex, twisting around in the opposite direction they should.

_“I’m an Angel with a shotgun…”_

A resounding thump echoes through the house.

Eren groans loudly, his hip aching as he finds himself on the floor of the shower with the water spraying in his face. Mikasa stands over him assertively, her attention breaking for the moment it takes to calmly drop her razor on one of the utility wells.

He looks up at her dimly, hand rubbing his head, “Ah! What w-”

Mikasa shrugs smugly as she steps forward, towering over him now on sprawled over the floor. Her hand reaches down towards him, as if to help him up. But her hands pass right by his with full ignorance, “Hey… be careful when you sneak up on a woman like that…” she taunts him.

Her fingers run through the wet hair behind his ears and pulls him up, more guiding than actually lifting. Eren looks up at her through squinted eyes, water sputtering off her shoulders into his eyes. She takes another tentative step forward as she looks down at him.

_“With my heart on a trigger…”_

Her legs wrap around his head, syncing with him sitting up through her guiding hands. She pulls his head back until their eyes meet as his tongue intuitively shoots out from his mouth, writhing over the wet skin between her legs.

_“They say before you start a war…”_

She looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to press the advance she allows him. Their eyes spark across the distance over her chest; most of the water jetting from the shower head streaming down her back.

Eren holds her gaze, accepting the challenge confidently as he scrapes the broad end of his front teeth, quickly followed by a wet upper lip, over the bundle of nerves directly in front of him. Mikasa hums warmly, the tension in her legs flickering as the initial orgasmic chills leap up through her legs.

A dark eyebrow lifts as he watches her reaction.

He lets the moment sink in without much further action, simply continuing the wriggling of his tongue over her flesh and brushing his upper lip over the tight knot of nerves.

_“I’m an angel with a shotgun, fighting ‘til the war’s won…”_

Mikasa’s hands slick through his hair again, gently pushing his head into her. Eren maintains eye contact and pacing, waiting for the right time as his memory of the song fades into mind.

A few seconds pass quickly as she feels her head begin dancing with a tepid embrace, the feeling floating past her eyeballs and over the rest of her face through her throat in a warm glow.

_“I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe…”_

Eren presses his jaw into her, shoving his tongue as deeply into her as he can manage from the angle while still keeping her eyes in view. Her thighs press against his head. His hands creep up the inside of her thighs steadily.

His pressure explodes. Rapid darts of his tongue back and forth against her walls, eager to cast off any resistance she may have in a torrent of electricity. A pair of fingers squeeze against his tongue, joining the ecstatic party tingling up through her legs and into her mind. Quick, definite thrusts of his fingers juxtaposed by brief reprieves of his tongue wrapping around within her build the hum in her lungs into a full moan, making her eyelids droop over her eyes as the pleasure drips past her limited defenses.

_“And I wanna live, not just sur-vive…”_

The sprint. Eren erratically massages his fingers past his tongue, desiring to completely tear away her consciousness in a single, furious assault on her senses. He feels her body shudder and quickly withdraws his hand, wrapping them around the back of her legs to help hold her straight as her climax washes down her body. He spreads his tongue on the withdraw, breaking the meandering eye contact with her to cusp her wholly with his mouth. His tongue teases her entrance, tasting the trickle of fluid streaming from her as he fights past the dilution of the shower.

Her balance sways back and forth, eyes frosted over with a weary look of the distant ecstasy rolling and crashing about her mind.

Seconds pass as Eren struggles to find appropriate timing. Her balance continues to waver as her euphoria disconnects her head from her body spuriously.

Eren scooches backwards, slipping out from underneath her as he watches her carefully. Standing on his knees, he wraps an arm around the back of her knees and the other around her lower back as high up as he can manage from the position. A single, swift contraction buckles her legs from under her – his guarded arm catching her weight and lowering her to the shower floor with him.

Her mind foggy, delirious, Mikasa’s eyes trace up to his as he pushes her against the corner below the shower head. A blur shades over her vision as Eren reaches up and turns up the heat of the water. Her legs lift from the warm spray of water as his arms hook under them and his palms plant beside her abs.

Steam swirls through the stall.

Her chest contracts, a sharp wave of muscle reflexing as she feels his mass fill her.

Water from his hair drips over her face as he leans over her, quickly building the pace of his strokes. Her chest hums again, the flurrious tide chopping back up through her abdomen before the first has substantially dissipated.

_“fighting ‘til the war’s won…”_

Long, confident strokes of his hips cause her head to slack against the wall as her eyes briefly meet his. Eren continues to gaze down at her, even as her ability or will to meet him washes away in the familiar embrace of another rising climax.

The Sprint. Eren resumes his fury, pounding himself into her without restraint. She feels her head and neck bump against the wall uncomfortably, but its dissuasive pain barely manages to make its voice heard against the surging pleasure rippling through her lower body. Her body contracts again, mind imploding as her orgasm slaps into her senses.

Eren makes no effort to suppress himself. Knowing full well he broke down her defenses ages ago, he lets his quick climax push right past any resistance.

A firm, loitering thrust holds his sensitive skin fully within her, waiting until the last moment to pull out before he feels himself burst. He stands, whipping an arm from under her leg and stroking himself as he spurts hot jets of cum over her chest and face.

_“You better know what you’re fighting for…”_

Eren grins at her, pleased with himself and finally ready to answer her unstated prompt as his orgasm recedes, “Please… you left the door open for me.” He leans over her again, bring his head within a breaths distance from hers, “You wanted me to.” A wry smirk coats his face.

Mikasa breathes, warm steam filling her lungs as her head bumps against the wall while she looks up at him with a toothy smile, “Maybe.”

He doesn’t miss a beat as she sticks her tongue out at him lackadaisically. His hand sweeps over her face, forcefully wiping his cum over her skin, her tongue catching a few stray drops from the movement. He hisses at her with a kind jeer, “Slut.” Mikasa muffles a smile.

Eren crouches back into the stream of hot water, offering her his hands. She lifts hers absently, her mind still traced back to her recent orgasm. A smooth jerk rips her skin from the wet wall, pulling her around until her back rests against his chest.

The hot water spray over her face, washing the traces of his seed off her. She snorts as the water drains away the last of her deliriousness. His hands lock under her breasts, pulling her tight to him as the water showers them. Her head tilts backward, looking at him seeking a kiss.

He follows, pressing their wet lips together in a steamy fog.

The kiss breaks after a tender moment. Eren leans back, his head leaving the stream of the shower as he thinks, “So, when did you know?”

Mikasa snorts humorously not keen on giving him any hints, “Guess.”

He pauses a moment, eyelids fluttering as stray droplets dapple his face. “Mm.. when I moved the speaker?”

She laughs again, dismissing him with a resounding, “No.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W and tags: jealousy, cunnilingus, BDSM, and knife play.  
> I did not originally intend it to be so lengthy, but it just kept growing....

The crew strolls down the narrow market street, eyeing most of the yet-to-open shops with varying interests. Armin makes note of a vintage bookstore near the start of the walk while Connie snickers at a joke and prop shop next door.

Eren, hands in his pockets with a rather weary look on his face, follows a short distance behind the three leading. Mikasa bumps into him from his left, slipping her hand under his arm and pulling his hand from his pocket as she interlocks their fingers. Her eyes glitter as she squeezes his hand. Eren admits a warm, albeit brief smile as he returns the squeeze and they continue walking.

They continue a solid third of a kilometer down the alley, stopping occasionally to survey crossroads and backstreets for more interesting avenues. But, with little interest drawing their attention elsewhere, they continue down the same alley as the few individually interesting shops at the start of the walk fade away to a lot of mundane kitchen/dining room style shops. At least more and more of the shops are lifting their shudders now, opening business for the day…

Armin pauses, looking up at the sign of a small shop with interest just as the owner walks up and pulls up the shudders from inside the store. Jean and Connie continue a few steps before noticing Armin’s attentiveness. Armin reads off the sign, more to himself than to the group, but nonetheless loud enough for them to hear as well, “Josiah’s Esoteric Antiques.”

He glances around, first at Eren and Mikasa then back to Jean and Connie. The latter pair shrug and begin walking into the store before anyone says anything. Eren and Mikasa look at one another for a moment, then follow behind Armin.

The store is narrow, but deep. Most of the light fades in from the main entrance and less from a few small artificial lights in the back of the shop behind the counter. The air is stuffy, dense. Probably from the compact shelves lined with a hodgepodge of semi-organized items ranging from books to figurines to… somethings they are not sure what they are.

Connie walks down the left-most aisle of the store straight away, Jean following more loosely behind him as he skims over the shelves with a growing interest in its variety. Armin, Eren, and Mikasa hover near a shelf by the main entrance along the right side of the shop. Armin looking at several large books, which Eren and Mikasa both presume to be information-heavy, dense books with technical details on some such thing or another.

After a moment shared skimming, Eren breaks from the two and walks farther down the wall towards the shop counter. Mikasa lingers behind, quietly sweeping up and down the wall’s various trinkets.

Eren stops abruptly as something catches his eye. Mikasa notices out of the corner of her eye, but pays it little mind as she continues to search over the variety of merchandise. She can hear Armin awe at something he found in one of the books he was looking at a few moments ago. The store owner steps between Armin and Mikasa and begins talking with Armin about the book, explaining that many of the things in the store are from various nooks and crannies spread around the globe. Armin’s eyes dazzle and he bursts into a torrent of questions. The owner chuckles and tries to answer him as quickly as Armin shoots off questions, but is more than bogged down in reminiscence of his travels and the details of each question.

Eren catches a few bits of the conversation, but only happens to look up at their exchange as the owner mentions something about his wife and daughter’s last trip to a place called “Del-hi,” or something close… it was bit difficult to hear through the man’s unusual accent. He replaces the object of interest on the shelf and meanders further into the store.

Mikasa looks up from her grazing, a short extremely mellow smile gracing her face for Armin’s happiness before turning and checking the shelves behind her on the same isle.

Connie “wows!” at something. Out of view of everyone but Jean, who promptly responds with, “Idiot.” Connie ignores Jean’s contempt as Jean continues around the corner rather rapidly, nearly bumping into Eren by the counter while his attention is still behind him on Connie’s quirky find.

A shortish, dark haired woman emerges from the back. She walks up to the counter, pressing a button or something on the cash machine sitting atop the counter against the wall before looking up and Jean, then Eren. She perks up, smiling brightly and greeting the guys while clearly looking more at Eren than Jean.

Mikasa notices the blur walk out from the back room and glances upward as it steps behind the counter between Eren and Jean. Her attention fades from the smallish book in her hands as she sees the reddish blush on the woman’s smooth skin below her eyes, even in the poor lighting. She hears the owner still chattering with Armin, but little of its contents filter through her mind as she attempts to pretend like she is looking at the small text in book she clutches.

Jean leans on the counter, laughing at something much more loudly than what one of the three said. Eren shifts his weight around, crossing his legs while partially leaning on the counter with the other. His right hand remains static in his pants pocket.

The woman combs her bangs back as her other hand brushes over Eren’s hand on the counter while she says something indiscernible.

Mikasa’s body tenses fiercely, the corner of her lip curling upward in distain.

She watches the woman point to something on the wall beside Eren, her mouth moving as she says something briskly. Her blush grows more intense, a pause in her body language as she looks towards Mikasa, the gesturing hand weakening. The women meet eyes briefly; Mikasa stands tall, raising a brow in challenge. The woman behind the counter gestures at Mikasa, or something very close to her, less energetically this time.

Eren and Jean look at the book she holds in her hands with an unconscious firmness. Jean’s face is red and quickly looks away as he recognizes what the woman is pointing at.

The owner laughs loudly in his conversation with Armin, throwing his head back. He points down at the book in Armin’s hands, strongly agreeing with something, catching Eren’s attention briefly as he looks past Mikasa for a moment.

Mikasa still pays them little attention as an eye still stares at the dark-haired woman behind the counter, trying to dip her head back to ‘reading’.

“Whatcha got there?” Connie bumps into Mikasa, prodding a finger at the square, red book in her hands. Her gaze on the woman lingers for another moment, but eventually recenters as she refocuses. Her mind flashes over what she was doing with the book then, remembering its contents with a furious blush, quickly shutting it closed, favoring the back cover towards Connie’s direction. She silently thanks herself for being on an introductory page with a bunch of dense text. Connie scoffs, “Eh, fine then. Looked boring anyways.”

Mikasa clutches the book at her side, hiding the front cover against her waist as Connie walks away impatiently. Her eyes slide back towards the counter.

Eren nods at something the woman says, a gentle smile seen on the corner of his face.

The woman stands up straight for a moment, her lips flickering as she acknowledges something and disappears into the back room. Jean stands up and turns back, glancing towards the center of the store as he chews on his lip.

The owner pats Armin’s shoulder candidly, muttering something about a “good choice.” Mikasa shifts, meeting Armin’s eyes for a moment as the owner steps between shelves and walks towards the back of the store. Armin is still smiling warmly as he enjoys finding a good book and a fellow adventurer. He steps up beside Mikasa, who still stands rather rigidly beside the shelf where she found the book.

Seeing the owner walking back towards the counter, she lifts a hand, waving at him and mumbling something to grab his attention while digging into her pocket for some money. He stops and looks at her through one of the few open shelves, asking what he can do for her.

She hands him the book through the shelf, asking, “Can you ring this up for me?”

He nods heartily, “Sure thing, Miss.” And resumes his pace back to the counter.

Just before he turns around the countertop, his daughter emerges from the back holding a large, glossy black box. The sides are recessed, a smooth, curved routing carving an emboldened “C” around the perimeter of the box. Mikasa can see some fairly fanciful engraving on the lid, but is unable to make out the details of its image or wording from the angle she holds. She can still make out that the box itself is maybe 45 centimeters long, by 35 centimeters deep, and roughly 12 or 13 centimeters deep.

The woman catches Mikasa looking at her as she brings the box out from the back room. Her mood clearly shifts again as she unceremoniously drops the box on the countertop in front of Eren, seemingly souring in an instant. Eren pushes some cash over the counter as the owner walks behind his daughter into the back room, presumably to make change through another deposit. Mikasa breathes a sigh of relief she didn’t recognize she needed.

She catches Eren mumble something about “Keeping the change.”

Jean and Connie walk around a shelf between Eren and Mikasa, momentarily cutting off her view as they come up empty handed while exchanging a brief glance with one another as they openly consider walking back to the alley and strolling on. Eren turns around and leans back against the counter as Armin walks up to him.

“What-cha find, Armin?”

Armin brandishes the book in front of him with wide, enthusiastic eyes, “Two! Seventh Century Eastern Philosophies of Logistical Combat and another on Structural Engineering with Water Features.”

Eren snorts, totally expecting such an obscure combination from Armin. “Bookworm,” he jeers supportively.

Armin slides the payment over the counter, “What’d you find?”

Eren is silent for a moment, washing his face of any giveaways, “Ahh…” he struggles to give a non-answer, resisting the urge to rub the back of his neck, “A box.”

Armin’s face furrows, disappointed with a poor answer, but doesn’t push. He accepts the change, catching what looks like something of an embarrassed face from the woman behind the counter. Armin turns, facing Mikasa as the owner emerges from the back and reaches over the counter, handing Mikasa a brown bag. She quickly takes the bag and folds the bag over itself until the excess is creased over the edges of the book hidden within. Armin nods at Mikasa, “What about you?”

“A book.”

Another non-answer. Armin wrinkles his nose, looking between the two before using his periphery to look at the woman. Eren collects the box in his lanky arms, letting it rest over waist without saying anything. Armin gestures toward the exit, “Shall we?”

Eren steps off first, shortly followed by Armin. They walk out into the morning sunlight and look around for Connie and Jean, who had moved onto a storefront three buildings down from the antique store the group was just in. Mikasa lingers behind, giving a sketchy jeer backwards at the woman lingering behind the counter, then slowly follows behind Armin and Eren.

She steps up to the edge of the shop, just enough to get some more ardent sunlight. Hiding amid one of the end shelves and merchandise racks opposite the cashier counter, Mikasa thumbs open the bag and pulls the book out with a certain timidness. Her fingers flash over the embossed cover and open to a random page. A heartbeat later she feels the blush flush over her face. She bites her lip, casting a very succinct glance around herself.

Armin turns, looking back to her hanging behind. He stops, waiting for her as she doesn’t notice him. Continuing to look at her, he can see her blush and her head sink towards the book as it clearly draws in her attention. He gives her a short wave, barely catching her attention. She stands up straight, not moving and clearly in thought.

She points to Eren while making eye contact with Armin, his back still turned to Armin and Mikasa, and waves her hand towards herself like she wants him to call Eren back. Armin tips his head to the side, somewhat curious but does as he thinks she wants. “Eren,” Armin turns, calling him. Eren pivots on his heel as he languishes catching up with Jean and Connie. He “Hmms” at Armin, his head tipping back as he sees Mikasa still loitering by the antique shop. Armin swipes a hand past his side, pointing back at Mikasa, “Woman wants you.”

Eren perks up to attention, then walks past Armin to Mikasa. Armin pauses, watching them merge for a moment before turning back towards Jean. He walks at an oblique, keeping half an eye on his periphery, venturing to keep vision of the couple standing outside the antique store. Mikasa stands up straight, holding the book to her chest as her head elevates, inching towards Eren’s face. He can faintly see Eren’s jaw moving, but not with any chance of making out what he said other than it was something short. Mikasa tiptoes forward until her feet land between Eren’s, a gentle bounce of her legs closing the distance between them and planting a quick kiss somewhere on his face. Armin catches up with Jean who is crouched over looking at some strange sunglasses on a small shelf outside a storefront. He subtly turns, still trying to read Eren’s behavior. Mikasa walks off the direction the group came from.

Armin turns more fully towards Eren as he notices Eren motioning at Armin. They’re a bit too far from a comfortable speaking distance and don’t want to shout, so Eren flashes a few hand signals. They’re heading home. Armin’s eyebrow raises with intrigue and surprise, but he motions back at Eren acknowledging their change of plans. He continues watching them depart; Mikasa turning around after several paces with what appears to be a rather sly smirk up the left side of her face. Eren follows behind her while she walks backwards, looking at him.

Jean stands up, noticing Eren and Mikasa walking off, “Eh? We just got out here, where are they off to?”

Armin shrugs, “I don’t know. Eren only said they were heading back.”

Jean huffs loudly as he tries on a pair of sunglasses in a crude mirror, “Enigmas.” He pauses, checking out the look with some distaste before dropping the glasses back to the shelf, “You’re closer to them than anyone, how do you not know what they’re off for?”

Armin’s stance tenses, having already deliberately discounted information he now sees himself confronted with again. “Yeah. But I’m not a mind reader,” he tries to dismiss Jean.

Jean, either not expecting an answer anyhow or choosing to drop the subject, continues down the alley.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mikasa quickens her pace to keep ahead of Eren, careful to always stay several full strides ahead of him at the least. Feeling the distance close or extend too far, she often combs her hair back and looks back at him out of the corner of an eye, continually leading him on.

Half-way home, Eren rapidly picks up his pace, jogging to catch up with her. Mikasa dips into a backstreet almost immediately.

Eren frowns, “Oi!” as he jumps after her.

He sees her hair whip around another corner.

He jumps forward again, hauling his black box along with him as he struggles to keep up with her agility.

A short straight away – Eren speeds up, closing most of the distance between them.

Mikasa turns into another backstreet, her eyes flashing in the bright morning sunlight as she catches eyes with him and continues to pull him along behind her.

“Hey!” he calls after her as they reappear in the alley near where they originally entered. She spins around, still several body lengths ahead of him while she walks backward. Eren switches his grip on his purchase, flicking his spare hand up at her as he makes chase. Mikasa tips her head to the side, teasing eye contact as she accelerates her pace to keep the distance from him fixed to her liking.

Eren slows, recognizing she won’t let him catch up with her any time soon and resigns himself to following her home.

He walks in silence, letting his gaze fall to the brickwork of the streets between thoughts. After a handful of lapses in attention, he glances up to see Mikasa completely gone from sight. “Tsk!” _Well. Not like I don’t know where to go…_ he frowns.

Another quarter kilometer of walking in the warm sun until he happens upon the steps up to the house.

He finds the door unlocked already and steps into the marginally cooler space of the main entryway. He closes the door behind him and shifts the purchase between hands again. “Mikasa!” he calls into the empty house. Walking into the home, he sees a single sock tossed onto the floor near the foot of the master bed. He frowns, passing through the hallway intersection and into the doorway to find it and one other obvious part of the room that disheveled from its usual status.

Eren walks up to the bed and slides the black box he purchased under the bed, then stands and looks at the book at the foot of the bed on Mikasa’s side. He palms the cover, the silvery title flashing under his fingers, “Kama Sutra” he reads. He grimaces in thought as he scans over the front of the book, observing a lot of suggestive persons standing in unusual poses. A thick piece of paper protrudes from the top of the book, itself buried in some page roughly halfway into the text. He glances around the room, unsure of what to expect from her planning.

He shuffles his feet, late to remove his shoes. He kicks them back towards the doorway as he opens the book. The pages fall to a drawing of a man – a light-ish shade of blue – and a woman – a light reddish-pink color – in what is obviously a sex position. His brow raises prominently, ultimately surprised by its content, lips creasing together as he “Wows” silently to himself. He grabs the piece of paper, folding the pages over until he reaches the bookmarked page.

“Face Ride,” thick black, bold letters title the page. His eyes skim over the drawing – the man laid out on a mattress with the woman over top of his head, her legs spread wide over his face. He begins reading the brief description below the depiction, but only gets a line or two in before he hears Mikasa rack her knuckles on the wall behind him.

A finger stuck to the page, Eren turns to look at her.

She pauses in the doorway, completely naked. His eyes hover between her legs, then coast up her chest to her face. She clearly caught his attention as he stands a little straighter.

The pair stand in a definite moment of silence. Eren’s finger falls from the page.

Eren opens his mouth, but Mikasa is well ahead of him. Her knees impact his chest with a heavy thud, throwing him backwards as her full-bodied jump connects with his abdomen. Eren crashes to the bed, the wind knocked out of him under the forceful weight of Mikasa jumping him. She uses his stun to climb over him, hopping and shoving her legs to the bedspread – her hands pushing his arms up into a T-pose and pinning them under her shins as she walks herself over his face. Eren blinks absently, torn between being aroused and properly stunned by her assault.

She holds herself over his face, waiting for him to catch his breath as he heaves air back into his lungs. Her fingers lace into his, drawing his forearms up a short distance. “I don’t think-” Eren coughs, “that was part of the process.”

Mikasa shrugs, her face neutral, “I improvised a bit.”

Eren lifts his head from the bed a touch, his eyes looking upward to hers. “And my arms?”

Mikasa shrugs again, a smile creeping over her lips, “A woman does as she pleases.” A hand drops his, allowing her fingers creep into his hair thoughtfully.

His head drops back to the bed, “Well… in that case, that box…”

Her legs clamp around his head, lowering her already moist valley to his lips. “If I wanted to hear it, I’d tell you,” she begins grinding her hips against him, expecting him to catch onto the first bit without the need for directions.

He does, albeit with a shade of reluctance. He’s smart enough to know there is certainly no way out, not that he is all that interested in leaving anyhow. His tongue slips from his mouth, brushing over the smooth skin between her legs. Her fingers pull his hair, tightening together as his tongue sends electrical shivers racing through her body without delay.

A solid, silent minute passes as Eren continues to stroke his tongue through her valley. His tongue broadens with each stroke until he feels his tongue brush against both of her thighs.

She shifts forward slightly. Eren feels his arms tingle as he recognizes how little blood flow has been reaching his forearms in the quiet minutes of his hunger. Mikasa leans back ever so slightly, “In,” she pulls his hair.

Eren stalls, dragging his tongue over her skin.

Her legs crush his skull. Eren moans though her, a loud protest which only really encourages her – the buzz feeling ecstatic between her legs. Her chest hums as the electricity begins to seep into her brain.

Eren obeys, slipping the tip of his tongue into her cautiously. Her legs relax. Slightly.

Enough to know that he is obeying well enough, but not enough to be comfortable or allow him any reasonable degree of freedom.

The hum sinking over the air though her chest grows, sharply cut off by a gasp as his tongue pushes deeper into her.

Her head already swimming, she debates with herself – _mmmhh!_ A sweep of his tongue excites a bundle of nerves; _hair or hands?_

She lets another long stroke grope though his hair, pulling on the fibers as she withdraws her hand and links her fingers back up with his free hand. His forearms tense as she pulls up on his arms.

“Deeper.”

Eren responds more quickly than previously, enjoying the feeling of her wet walls tight around his tongue. Eager for her climax and his own plotting.

His tongue creeps inward. Slowly.

“Deeper.”

His pace picks up considerably, driving his tongue into her eagerly.

_We can play that game…_

He feels her fingers clench around his as he hits a sensitive spot, the tension quickly shifting from her extremities towards her core. Her thighs clench around his head again.

Her chest feels light, feathery as her mind quickly shifts from a diluted clear headedness to a rapidly fading control complex. She wriggles her ears, trying to keep herself in the present as she feels the pleasure soak through her waist, skipping past her chest to feel her breasts becoming hypersensitive.

Eren’s eyes narrow as he notices the shift – hear head falling back slightly and her ears twitching as her grip on his hands temporarily slackens.

Then intensifies as she tensions his arms against her legs. Her hips shake subtly, sinking her waist deeper onto his face as his tongue works up through her core, brushing more and more sensitive lines of nerves sending pleasure-filled shocks shooting through distinct lines of communication in her body.

Eren contracts his fingers, subtly pulling her hands down towards his arms.

She responds almost immediately, forcibly pulling back on his. But he notices the delay. He _feels_ the delay.

_She’s close._

His eyes narrow again as he examines her body. Her flanks are tight, muscles contracting as the euphoria builds to an intense fever. Her thighs are solid, clearly feeling most of the muscles under tension, even if not all the way. Her biceps flex outward, pulling towards her shoulder blades as the electricity coursing through her spine favors her backside.

He presses forward, burying his tongue within her as far as he can manage.

Mikasa cuts through the fog, “Ah!” She flexes her abs and tilts her head downward, squeezing her thighs together in a pair of contractions, “I didn’t tell you to do that.”

Eren retreats, reluctantly with slimmed eyes focused on hers.

Her legs and abs relax to their previous posture. She waits seven breaths; he feels her legs pulse again.

“Deeper.”

He follows, but barely has time to obey before a second command comes.

“All the way.”

He squints briefly, chalking up a victory as he slathers his tongue deep within her.

Her legs tense fiercely, a sharp inhale filling her chest. The hum returns, breaking into an open moan with almost no delay.

Eren persists, beginning to feel his tongue reproach him. Four streaks of the tip of his tongue as deep though her as he can manage before retreating slightly and repeating the pattern.

No comment comes.

_Another victory._

He writhes his tongue from the tip down to the base, waving his wet tongue over her cells.

It does the trick – her jaw hinges open, lungs in a slow exhale. Her legs tense, then rapidly flicker as her mind drops through her jaw and into her valley. Colors explode over closed eyes. Her fingers barely intertwine with his as she loses the consciousness necessary to maintain the dexterity of their interlocking pressures.

Eren smiles through her, watching the waves of ecstasy course through her body. He tastes the nectar flowing from her – first a trickle, then a torrent. He swallows it all, drinking her in with gusto.

He pauses, still wriggling his tongue just enough to feed the lasting sensation washing though her body. Watching. Waiting for the creamy moment between her orgasmic mind filtering back into reality, still behind the curve but catching up.

She feels his chest flex. Her head is back, far enough to open her eyes without him knowing. She can see his legs moving at the very edge of her vision.

His legs whip over her face, his ankles attempting to cut under her jaw to pull her down.

But she already knew what he was attempting.

She leans into the offense; tipping her head back, nearly letting her back fall to his waist just as he was attempting to pull her into. Her feet dig into the bed, pushing her legs off his arms and off the mattress. She pulls his arms down to the bed, then twists them upwards to try to lift him off the bed for a brief second.

A swift lunge yanks his arms behind him, quickly supplanted by rolling around his side and jumping behind him before he can change positions or tactics. Her hand closes around his thumbs and roughly pull his hands up the center of his back in a tight double-chicken wing.

“Ahh haa…” she catches him. She stretches the grip, making him cringe with a suppressed shot of pain shooting through his arms. “What’s in the box?”

Eren remains silent, intentionally keeping his gaze dead center in front of himself.

She pulls hard, nearly lifting him from the bed again, then rips his arms sideways until he falls on his side. A sidestep puts her over his head, followed by another hard yank that completes the turn leaving him facedown on the mattress. She jumps over top of him, gruffly landing on his twisted arms with her shins.

Eren lets out a single sharp, loud yelp tapering off in pain.

Leaning more weight onto his chest, she presses her question, “What… is in the box?”

His head shifts over the covers, a single eye catching hers. But he says nothing.

She bounces herself up and down on top of him, “Whats… in… the… box…!?” her hand pulls his chicken wings into a tighter and tighter arc with each bounce.

His groans grow louder with each bounce. But still, he refuses to answer.

She looks at him intensely, leaning her knees into his back with her eyes flickering.

“Fine,” she pouts furiously, “tell it to some _other_ slut.” Her tone is strenuous, forceful, and thinly veiled with an emotional furor.

She leaps from the bed, a final shove into the bed as she disappears from the room.

Eren breaths sharply, his mind swirling over what the hell just happened.

His subconscious panics ahead of his conscious; his inhale becoming a hard vacuum as his eyes dart around. Leaping from the bed, he is just out of the door after her when she ducks underneath him, whipping herself around inside the doorway and slamming the door shut behind him with a curt shove to make sure he can’t impede her. A sharp *click* of the door’s handle locking resonates through both sides of the divider.

Eren stares at the door blankly.

Seconds of silence pass. Eren leans his head up against the door, gently shifting until his ear evens with the vertical surface, “Mikasa…?”

No response. But he can hear a faint scratch on the carpet.

“Babe…?” He tries again, still very unsure of what exactly is going on inside her head. His fingers press against the door anxiously.

A few more silent seconds pass before he hears the lock *click* again, presumably unlocking. He cautiously opens the door, slowly turning the knob and creeping open the door.

His wrist gets a little beyond the door before Mikasa pounces.

A silvery flash of metal whips over his wrist; the clatter of handcuffs locking as her hand shoots through the gap and shoves the small of his back into the door. He stumbles into the bedroom. Mikasa wrenches his cuffed wrist behind his back and uses his momentum to drag the other hand back and attach it to the spare cuff without delay. Her shove continues, hastily pushing him to the foot of the bed while synching the last locks of the cuff tight to his wrist.

Eren barely registers her foot swiping his shins from under him as he neatly runs into the wooden frame of the bed and topples forward. He feels cold steel click around his ankles as Mikasa jumps onto his back yet again. She whips herself around, her legs shoving him into the mattress as she jumps upwards and spins 180 degrees in the air over top of him before crashing onto his back.

Eren opens his mouth, “Is this really nec-”

She cuts him off by throwing a red ball gag in front of him and yanking it into his open mouth. He bites down on it hard, pissed. His head cranes backward as she viciously tightens it around his face, his skin pinching white under the pressure of the belt.

“You won’t be using any of this stuff on any other whores,” she beings very pointedly, “You only have one.” Her tone breaks down to a more humorous snort, her tongue flicking between her teeth, “Though, right now _you_ are the whore.”

He mumbles something short and furious through the gag. She bounces up and down on top him again, “I’m sorry, I… can’t… hear… you!” His head rises off the bed with one of the bounces, his eyes catching a glimpse of a thick, glossy black belt around her lower abs.

His head tips to the side, trying to look at her as his words grow even more slurred and more intense, but still completely unintelligible. Mikasa smiles cheerily.

“Hmm? What’s that? Something about a whore you met at an antique shop?”

Eren pauses, his head still for the moment as he looks at her through the corner of his eye.

She sees his head shift around like he is about to again try to say something incomprehensible. Her hands plant to the mattress and she lefts herself from his back, dropping her weight beside him. A firm shove rolls onto his back, uncomfortably resting on his metal-bound arms.

A fraction of a second of ‘freedom’ until she is on top of him yet again, her legs moving up from his shoulders to his head. She stops poignantly, looking down at him over her bare hips above his jaw, “Who’s the whore?”

He squints, then mumbles something she can just clearly enough make out to be, “You are.”

Her hand smushes his face into the bed, “Say again?” His face bleeds white under the pressure, the ball gag sagging slightly from her weight.

Same response, but more strenuously, “You are.”

She leans even more weight onto his face, “I’m sorry, I can’t hear youuuu!” She holds the pose for a solid minute as he refuses to speak, “Don’t move,” then jumps off the bed. He can hear her rustling with something; various bits of metal clinking together and the dull thumps of items against wood.

He wriggles over to the edge of the bed, his feet dropping to the floor as he tries to sit up.

But Mikasa is faster than him. She stands up, holding a palmed size piece of metal. Her thumb clicks something on the device. Eren looks at the piece in her hand, the up at her face. Another click.

A palmed size blade springs open, her hand closes around the grip tightly.

She steps closer. Eren feels himself shrink slightly, knowing full well how capable she is with an edge and still insecure of her mentality.

Her fingers run through his hair and she climbs into his lap. His eyes shift between the blade and her face. She plucks the shirt from her skin and swipes the blade through the fabric, up from his bottom left to the top right at an oblique with exacting ease. Eren slowly resigns himself to the loss.

Something muffles through the gag. As Mikasa cuts the blade over his right shoulder she pieces it together, “That was a nice shirt.”

She shrugs, deliberately letting her hair cascade over her eyes unevenly as she looks into his eye, “ _Was._ ” A third swipe cuts over the other shoulder and the shirt falls away over his back. She looks at him innocently, “What are you going to do about it?”

His eyes squint again, another blurt chopping through the gag. His head taps against hers.

The blade flashes up between them, she tips her head forward and looks deeply into his eyes with a false innocuousness, “I’m going to take your pants off now.” She pauses, letting her clearly obvious innocent lie sink in before the real one kicks, “Are you going to cooperate or am I going to have to cut them off too?”

Eren’s eyebrows lift enthusiastically. He mumbles something again.

She doesn’t make the effort to listen.

Her fingers creep up his waist, quickly dawdling upward until they dig into his collar bone and push him backwards. Her eyes remain cemented to his the whole way; even as the blade disappears from his focus and he feels the cool, broad side of the blade wipes down his neck and over his clavicle as he falls backward under her pressure.

Eren’s back touches the mattress. Her knife-thumb presses into the skin above his heart.

He groans loudly, biting into the gag intermittently as he feels her draw the blade through his flesh in a long, belated crescent shaped carving motion aside his heart. She swaps hands in an instant, the new thumb pressing to the same white spot of flesh and repeating the pattern until a pair of oblong, double crescent lines bleed into an “X” over his chest beside his heart deep enough to draw blood and make a distinct impression, but not enough to completely heal over – promising a fait scar for a few years at minimum.

He can feel the pattern without looking.

He mumbles something; short, serious, and deadeye. His eyes crystalize into hers. She pieces it together in her head, “And hope to die.” She smiles broadly.

A hand smears the gentle ooze of blood to her right and down his abs. She brandishes the blade in front of him, letting the few drops of blood on the blade drip onto his chin as she tips the blade downward. Her legs clench around his flanks as the drops leave the knife.

Her teeth grip the blade, edge outward, letting her lips close around the far end of the blade and steeping in his blood. Her eyes grow even more intense, lifting her hand and spreading her fingers and palm wide.

Stamping the hand onto his wound with a hearty pressure.

Eren groans loudly through the gag, his head rolling around in the dull pain coursing through his chest and sharply into his neck.

She leans into him, keeping the pressure on and falling forward until her black hair cloaks their heads. Eren’s eyes flicker back to hers, his eyelids twitching sporadically until she releases some of the pressure and they retract in full.

Mikasa holds the pose for several seconds as his attention solidifies with her attentiveness. She smiles graciously after the tentative moments bleed away. She pecks a quick kiss on his nose, violently whipping the knife over her shoulder and embedding the blade in the door before jumping off him.

He breathes deeply, free of the physical pressure imploding his chest. He can feel her unbuttoning his pants, followed by the ruffle of the zipper being yanked downward. A fraction of a second later her hands begin tugging both his pants and his underwear down his legs until they cannot progress any farther; blocked by the ‘hand’ cuffs.

She glowers at him, daring him to challenge her as she clicks open one cuff at a time and flushes the clothing from his legs.

Eren holds eye contact with her, but does no more. Despite the pain and the wild ride, he feels calm. He breathes evenly.

The cuffs chirp rapidly, clicking back to lock tight against his ankles.

She clambers onto the bed again. Her leg kicks over him and settles on his side. Settling most of her weight on his waist, feeling the tip of his head tease against her valley from behind. She hums thoughtfully, musing loudly enough for him to feel it reverberate through his abs and chest. He scrapes his hair against the bedspread carefully while looking up at her. Her hips roll subtly, enjoying the voluntary tension of his head rubbing against her from behind.

“You have two choices, you pick: One or Two.” Her head tips back gently, her bangs falling into her eyes for a moment as she looks down at him studiously.

Eren holds eye contact with her for a moment, but says nothing as he ponders the inscrutable options presented to him.

Mikasa waits. Four breaths. Ten breaths… she teases her valley over his shaft silently, puckering her lips to bottle up the pleasurable feeling and the inevitable desire to keep going. Two breaths more…

“Good,” she chirps cheerfully, sitting up straight on top of him, “They were both the same anyway.” Whether he saw through the trickery or not, she doesn’t care because her will remains the same: ownership.

Her body slides backward, the skin between her legs coasting down the length of his shaft until falling off him. Her body pulls forward, wresting over his waist again.

“Sit up,” she commands him plainly.

She feels his hands shift under his body, pressing against the bed until he rises from it. The choppy ooze of blood from his chest picks up slightly as gravity draws it into a slow seeping. He sits upright, silently looking into her eyes as he feels her nipples brush against his chest.

Her hips flex, thighs unfurling, raising herself enough to pull his erection up under her. He feels a hand grab and hold him straight as she diligently lowers herself onto him. A suppressed groan rumbles from his throat as he feels her wet walls collapse around his skin. Her mouth hangs open as she enjoys his stiff shaft pressing into her, careful to keep half an eye on him as she goes.

Half-way down, she releases him and her arms wrap around the back of his neck, resting on his shoulders with tantamount precision. Her head dips, her forehead brushing against his as she sinks down onto him more. He feels her hips shutter as bolt of pleasure shoots through her, but continues to sense that he should give as little action or reaction as he can.

An abrupt groan sprouts from her lips as her eyes close, the warm feeling of him filling her to the brim bubbling past her defenses. And part of a calculated plot.

Her arms tense into his shoulders as she lifts herself, hips grinding into his waist slightly as she raises herself half-way up his length then begins to sink down again. Eren breathes steadily, focusing on the air moving in and out of his lungs with great care.

Another stroke, the same tensions and flexing after she feels his tip push against the crux of her wall. Her eyes flicker, head tilting downward as her eyes skim down his skin to the merge between them, and back up to his eyes.

Eren remains rigid, careful of drawing her wrath. He eyes her cautiously, trying to maintain a smooth composure as she strokes herself up and down his length with breathtaking ease.

A rasp at the door echoes through the house. Mikasa freezes, her face scowling at the intrusion. She doesn’t wait, though.

She lifts herself off Eren and walks away, peering through the bedroom doorway at the main door. The familiar outline of Armin shades the blinds. Her nose scrunches and lips purse side to side as she muses.

A turn and step later grab Eren’s dick in her hand and strokes him tediously as her legs come together at attention, her upper body leaning forward until he can feel her breath and see the smooth movement of fluid in her eye. A single, sharp finger coaxes him forward diligently, “Come with me.” Pausing and adding with due stress, “ _Quietly._ ”

He raises a brow in response, but stands as she turns back to the doorway and leads him forward. A few paces later, she stops him in front of the basement door. Her fingers still pulling at his tender flesh tauntingly, she whisks the door open and points down into the darkness, “Down. Wait for me.”

Eren hesitates for a fraction of a second but obeys. The moment his back is clear of the doorway she slams it shut behind him, leaving him in the darkness. She can hear the resistance of the door smacking into his cuffed hands, the sound less intense than would be expected by hearing the dull thump of the wood on his knuckles. She strides into the bedroom quickly. Dawning a thick sweater that flows almost down to her knees, she pauses for a brief moment debating whether to remove the belt around her abs.

_Nah. I like it._ A wry smile spreads over her lips as she paces to the main door. Just when she passes by the basement door, she hears a muffled thump – probably Eren tripping down the last few steps with his restraints in the darkness.

She grins at herself humorously, a distinct contentedness to the feeling. She opens the door, applying a sheepish complexion while standing far back and stooping forward around the opening.

Armin turns as he hears the door open. He smiles at her cheerfully as she peeks around the door, “Hi! All good?” Armin leans in slightly, noticing the apparent absence of Eren anywhere nearby, “And Eren is… where?”

Mikasa wades through several options… “Mm, he’s… preoccupied at the moment.”

Armin’s eyebrows scrunch curiously, “Eh?” Mikasa make out the figures of Jean and Connie down by the street as Armin moves.

Clearly Armin isn’t going to accept another vague answer and just walk away. Her back stiffens as she prepares to say it out loud, quickly spouting off, “I have him tied up in the basement.”

Armin’s look freezes at some level of shock to her boldness, his face turning white and eyes distance through hers as he cringes at not wanting to hear what he just heard. He turns around stiffly, _okayyy then… shouldn’t have asked…_ Armin starts down the steps, still rather stiff as he mulls over a new problem, _Great. Now to evade answering Jean and Connie’s perfectly reasonable questions…_

Jean’s hands pull out of his pockets expediently, leaning back as he loudly asks what is up.

Armin dips his head, very deliberately shading his face with his bangs as he walks up to them, “Don’t ask. Let’s go; they probably won’t be around any more today.” Jean’s mood drips unexpectedly.

Mikasa shuts the door behind him, clasping a hand to her mouth as she feels her own shock of answering him so boldly dribble into mind. Her pace picks up as she puts it behind her, a snicker rolling through the air of the room as she refocuses and strides back into the bedroom to toss the sweater into the room.

Light casts down the basement stairs, illuminating a crumpled Eren at the bottom of the stairs.

Mikasa silently strides down the stairs until she reaches him, “Mmm. How appropriate.” She slaps her hand against the crude light switch, dimly illuminating the remainder of the room in a yellow glow.

Eren’s eyes shoot up to hers, silently protesting with a mildly suppressed fury. She half-kicks, half-shoves him forward towards the center of the room. He groans through the gag as his skin scrapes over the stone.

“Got something to say?” she jeers.

Eren flops over onto his back uncomfortably and looks up at her, the same suppressed rebellion shimmering through his eyes. But his gag hides no word.

She nods contently, “Good.” Her legs straddle his waist without delay, resuming her strokes as she flips his erection upwards and sinks herself onto it.

Her hands plant on his chest again, one of them very deliberately over his scores. More of her weight rests on his body; he groans as the awkward angles of his arms bear more and more weight. The tension gets worse as her hips start moving front to back, steadily building her pacing as she drops the past behind her and feels the tepid pleasure rapidly rise through her body. Her chest shrinks, mind condensing on the feeling of his erection massaging her insides at her exacting pace. The cool, impassioned feeling in her chest lifts to the audible – a low hum breaking into a throaty, high-pitched moan, her mind stirring in the joy.

She twerks her hips up and down, erasing the front-to-back motions with a single swift change. The ebbing tides swirl with her revision.

A sharp inhale catches the air; her fingernails curl into his chest as the precipice of her orgasm sweeps over her mind with an overwhelming tenacity. She shakes her butt side to side, sinking down on him as the wash fills her head. Reaching the bottom triggers a flood of bright colors racing over her eyes, even in the yellow gloom of the artificial light as the tip of his head electrifies a strong nerve through her chest and tickling her brain. Her knees sweep over the floor and squeeze against his sides as the climax crashes through her waist, reflexively forcing her muscles to contract and relax in a flurry of spasms only partially controlled.

Eren rolls around the floor on his arms, trying to ignore the crushing pain growing through his bones.

The movement catches Mikasa’s attention, even in the middle of a climax. She forces her hips back, sinking herself even deeper over his erection. The result only increases the fury of contractions in her waist as she feels more of his skin rub through her. Eren groans audibly, either in pain or in pleasure. Maybe both.

Probably both.

Her hand mauls his face absently, words slipping from her lips somewhat drunkenly, slurring, “No… climax for you.” The thought finishes with a forceful, conscious push. But washes away into another wave of shaking with little delay.

Seconds fade into nearly a minute.

The cool air crisps her nerves, a wave of sensation flowing over her skin as she wakes from her wet dream.

She rises rapidly, standing over him with a firm authority. Her toes press against his cheek as she turns his head to the side, inspecting him. “Mmm…” she muses loudly. Eren glances up at her wordlessly.

She catches his look doggedly. Her shins fall to the floor beside him, palms spread flatly against the stone above his shoulders while her head levels above him, gazing deeply into his eyes.

He struggles to meet her gaze, bloody and subservient.

A smile creeps up her face.

He feels her fingers, cool from the stone floor, brush over the sensitive skin on the bottom of his rod. His legs jitter. Her head disappears from view, the black hair of her head somewhere over his chest in the gloomy light.

Her tongue runs up one of the shallow cuts, collecting a small taste of blood as her head raises back to his. She nuzzles her head into his neck, sucking on it fiercely for a brief moment before biting him and pressing her cheek to his. Her eye looks at him sideways, a single shimmer coursing through it in challenge.

His eye narrows, but his compliance persists.

She breaks away, nods contentedly, then unclasps the gag from his mouth and stands over him. Her tone firm and assiduous, “ _No noise._ ” She pauses, holding her eyes on him. Then turns and walks to the stairs.

She swats at the switch and sinks the room into darkness.

The door at the top of the stairs swings shut with a firm bash, leaving Eren sprawled in the inky darkness with inescapable cuffs around his ankles and wrists.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W and tags: Part 2/2 from entry #6. BDSM, knife play, and electrocution.

Mikasa wakes up rather suddenly to something rumbling in the house. Her hair is unkempt, fuzzy. She glances at the clock; it has been a little more than three hours since laying down for a pleasureful nap.

The floorboards rumble again.

She can tell it’s a loud, incredibly disgruntled sound coming from the basement.

A smirk spreads over her face, her nose crinkling with satisfaction as she listens to Eren ranting in the basement. The muted sound ceases for a minute as he apparently catches his breath. She collects herself over the mattress and gracefully strides into the kitchen. Several cups of water pour into the kettle on high heat. Two mugs placed beside the stove.

Eren yells again, though still a bit too indistinct to understand what he is saying. But his tone is clear enough: pissed and rebellious. _Yeah. Pretty normal, even know…_ She laughs at herself, _especially now._ Mikasa smirks to herself, knowing the legitimate handcuffs should not be any easy obstacle for him.

The heat of the kettle bathes her naked body standing beside the stove as steam begins to whistle.

She cuts off the fire and walks into the bedroom. Dawning her dominatrix belt with a firm snap around her abs, she catches the familiar red blob of her scarf on the bedspread. Tying it snugly around her neck, she returns to the kitchen and pulls the tea box from the cabinet. A few drops of honey and a green tea teabag dip into one of the mugs, followed by a rush of hot water into both containers. She walks back into the bedroom as the tea steeps and the water cools to a more tolerable temperature. Her attention shifts into the black box Eren returned with, skimming through for more interesting toys to test.

Unfortunately, not too much else catches her eye immediately. At least, not for today. She attaches one to her belt straight away. But as she’s closing the lid, she notices a smaller black box within, hidden among the various items.

It is utterly plain on the outside, nothing but a 6x6x10cm glossy black rectangular shape akin to its parent, with a crease around the perimeter near the top of one end. She picks up the thing and mulls it over in her hand. Removing the top, two stubby metal prongs protrude from the inside of the box, covered by a vanilla-colored wood. She turns it over in her hand again, a better suspicion of what to look for. Sure enough: the opposite side of the prongs, in a minute recess, a button. Her lips crease in contemplation.

She recaps the object and readily stands with it in hand. A jerk of her wrist alleviates the door of the black pocketknife. Returning to the kitchen again, she washes the dried blood and wood particles from the blade before folding it, locking the safety, and clipping it to her belt opposite the other tool.

She picks up both mugs with one hand and moves them to the counter closest to the basement door, then grabs the box she picked out from the bedroom and walks up to the door.

“MIKASAA!!!” his childish, emotive side showing itself quite shrewdly as he screams out, seeming to shake the whole foundation while she indisputably feels his struggling legs crashing against the stone, ever so gently vibrating the stairs under her feet. She snaps open the door, swapping the first tenable item within reach for the toy in her hand and hurling it at him through the stair’s support beams.

A banana from the fruit basket smacks into his face with enough force to turn his head away from the doorway; the banana, bruised and partially broken open as it ricochets off his face and soars across the open space, lands atop the table in the center of the room. She steadies the mugs, recoups the toy, and quickly paces down the stairs. A delicate care places both mugs and the black box on a wall-mounted bench. A bright white light hums on, illuminating the room evenly.

She steps up beside him and looks down at him furiously, “I very specifically told you _‘no noise’._ ” Her shin lifts backward and her foot slams into his dry, blood encrusted wound. He skates across the floor, bumping into the table while loudly yelping at the freshly opened wound. Walking forward without looking at him, she grabs the prostrate banana from the table and looks down at him momentarily. Eren looks up at her with a concerning frown as he watches her peel the skin from the destitute fruit.

Kicking him onto his back, she drops on top of him with her full weight, crunching his arms between the floor and his back. Her shins rest her full weight on his abs and chest as her head stoops over and glares at him intensely, “Open your mouth.” Her slick, black bangs shimmer back and forth in the bright light.

Eren hesitates very deliberately, not wanting a banana shoved down his throat. She rocks her weight back and forth over top of him, grinding his arms into the floor. But he resists the pain.

Her free hand slaps him, the crack echoing through the damp room. “I said, _open your mouth_.” Her intense glare continues to beam right through him.

Still, he refuses.

Her fingers wrap around his scrotum, tightening rapidly and pulling his skin taught until her head tips forward again. Eren’s eyes flicker, recognizing the danger as he reconsiders his path.

But she doesn’t give him the luxury of time: **_twissttt_** _._

Eren’s legs shrink inward with the most innate of reflexes as he cries out through gritted teeth, a tear streaming from his eye.

“Open your damn mouth, man-whore.”

She can feel his pecks spasm under her legs, the extreme pain screaming through his body without check. A moment passes before his jaw hinges open, plainly somewhat delirious from the pain; perhaps even in response to the pain and not her instruction.

Her hand raises the banana into the air and whips it downward to his mouth, stopping suddenly and gingerly placing it into his mouth.

“Eat.”

He looks at her cautiously, uncertain that it isn’t some feint or diversion or cruel trickery. But slowly obeys – his teeth grind down the soft fruit meat as he continues eyeing her at the edge of his vision while the tunnel vision fades away.

Mikasa snaps her legs to the floor instantaneously and stands, walking back to the bench to hold her tea as if nothing happened. She turns, leaning against the wall as she quietly sips her tea. A few taste-tests swig down nearly a third of the fluid, “See. That isn’t so bad is it?”

Eren, still chewing, mumbles something incoherent through his food absently. She places the cup on the bench and swaps it with the other one.

He doesn’t have time to look in her direction as she pours the hot water onto the center of his chest, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth, man-whore.” Eren recoils at the fresh hell, spitting out the remains of the banana as his eyes clamp shut in response to the roasting water over his skin. His yell isn’t as loud as when she kicked open his wound – and certainly not the _twist_ – but it nonetheless provides her another impetus. A foot wedges under his back, kicking him onto his side first, then onto his belly. Her fingers grip at the roots of his hair and gruffly yank his head back.

His finger feel the loose skin between her legs graze over them. He groans quietly, feeling his hair pleading with him from her pull.

“Alright man-whore, index fingers straight and in the air. Together.” One hand holds his head back by his hair as the other combs through it thoughtfully, feeling the texture.

It takes him a moment to register her wish but follows it as best as he can. The metal around his wrists clattering briefly as his arms twist around and his fingers protrude from his back prominently, back-to-back. She raises herself and lowers onto his outstretched fingers.

He can feel her weight shift, quickly followed by the warm, enveloping grip of her interior walls being buffed by his fingers.

A hand strokes through his hair again, “Now wriggle them.” A brief pause before she feels his fingers warbling around within her, hooking back and forth animating the preexisting energy within her core, teased by her own commands. Her thighs tense against his flanks as she enjoys the stirring.

Silence passes for a few breaths as she lets him toil. Her free hand slips from his hair and latches onto his shoulder, the other still tightly gripping his hair, “Keep going, do _not_ stop.” She drags him backwards towards the bench while ignoring his groaning, a bit farther than needed to turn around and grab her tea without raising herself from his stimulating fingers. Her hand remains attached to his shoulder. Using her legs, she turns them around, then drags him across the stone back to their original position while holding the tea steady in front of her.

She can see a tear streak down the side of his face, simultaneously recalling that she may have just scraped up his genitals pretty well. _Eh… he’ll make do._ She focuses on the combination of the hot tea dripping down the back of her throat and his fingers swimming around within her. A warm hum buzzes from her lips, growing to a throatier moan as she finishes the tea. It clatters to the tabletop noisily as she smacks her lips loudly. Her posture stiffens, “Add the middle finger of your right hand.”

His forearm flexes, briefly withdrawing his right hand enough to slip the commanded finger into her. And resumes the motions.

He stirs momentously. Breaths flowing past as he waits for her to be satisfied with the struggle…

What feels like ten minutes for him pass by before she says anything more. “Good.” He can feel her head nod, “Now stop. No moving.”

His fingers complete one more rotation, then comply.

She leans forward, both hands wrapping around his throat and lift his head from the stone. He can feel the tips of her hair mingling with his. Her abs contract, grating his fingers against her walls. She feels a finger buckle under the pressure.

A hand leaves his throat and counterpoints against the top of his head, wrenching him in two directions at once. He coughs, her fingers digging into his neck as his forehead presses into the stone. “I said _no_ moving.”

He tries his best to stiffen his fingers. She can feel the limp digit comply, perking back upright as she waits. The pressure on his neck gradually relieves, but she holds his forehead to the cool stone as her hips resume their motion.

_Ooohh. I should’ve tried this eons ago…_ Mikasa feels the fingers whipping up a frothy storm as she winds and twists her hips around on top of him. Her pace increases slightly, but primarily extends her sweeps as the electricity in her waist creeps up her back and into her eyes, fluttering them shut in a rapidly warming haze.

More rotations of her hips follow, her mind focusing more and more intently on the approaching climax. Which only serves to hasten its arrival.

A finger nearly buckles under the pressure; a momentary slip in consciousness pierces through her, one half still completely focused on the onrushing orgasm, the other half preparing a disproportionate response if he continued to fail her.

But he manages.

And she is rewarded for _her_ efforts.

The hair on her neck stands, her thighs freeze and clutch around his back while the electricity jumps up to her shoulders then explode over the rest of her body with a momentary numbness following a hypersensitive prickle. Her ears redden and warm, her head pulling into the clouds of the familiar chittering of her breasts and the haven between her legs. Lungs shrink consistently as the cool, tingling feeling seeps past her breasts and into her chest, spreading to encompass the front of her upper body. Her abs flex against the belt, briefly remembering its presence as the euphoria distorts her awareness before being torn from her mind again.

Eren can feel her body chippering, legs clenching around him. But all he can really focus on is the still increasing pressure of her hand pushing his head into the stone, the pressure creasing around the sides of his head to the back. The discomfort becomes palpable pain and he groans, however brief.

It snaps her out of cloud nine. She sinks her hips all the way down onto him without delay, reveling as the tips of his fingers tease her insides even more desperately despite their slumber. He can feel her abs flex, not directly over his skin or hands, but through her inner walls shrinking around his fingers.

The grip lasts but a second. She stands and rolls him over with her foot again. A brief rattle shakes the air in the room as her adjustment displaces him into the table somewhat. Eren sees her hand flash to the belt around her waist, fetching the same black metal as a few hours prior. He rolls his eyes, endeavoring her not to see him as does so. Her shins meet the floor again as she shifts over him until the skin between her legs brushes against his lips tenaciously.

Her fingers hold the knife preciously, flicking off the safety and releasing the blade from its housing as she looks down into his eyes, “Start eating.” Her head bobs unconsciously, “Tongue too.”

She can feel his shoulders flex, obviously anxious over the return of the blade.

_Well… That’s where I’ll cut, then…_

Eren’s lips cautiously close around the spare skin, eyes sweeping between the blade and her shimmering eyes apprehensively. The blade slowly disappears from sight as his lips fracture, his tongue swiping through the crease between the folds of skin. More dashes of his tongue skirt through her valley, eventually reaching the entrance contained within. His tongue solidifies to a point and pushes its way inside.

She can feel his body relax as he lets his guard down. The blade slices into his collar, etched clean through every layer of skin, drawing blood.

His throat rumbles, the vibration of his tongue conveyed into her.

_Ohh.. I likee.._

The blade dips into his collar again, drawing a clean parallel line beside the first cut to his outside.

Again, his tongue rattles against her entrance.

Two more parallel lines lacerate his flesh, each drawing their intended response: more vibrations of his tongue within her well. Eren’s whole head shudders, feeling the pain leaking from the source. His tongue extends, eager to cease her masochism.

But it has the opposite effect in her mind.

She blindly carves an opposing cut into the first one, producing a trademark “X” about a quarter of the size of the original.

His tongue, fully extended within her, shakes vibrantly. Her legs clench around his face adamantly as a surge of chemicals breeze past the expected temporal barrier hiding her next orgasm.

The blade briefly laxes from her grip, the hilt touching to his chest as her whole body quivers. Eyes shut tight, colors bounding over her vision vividly. Legs static, but still jolting internally as waves of extasy sweep down, then up, and back down through her mind’s perception.

Eren tries to breathe a sigh of relief, hoping her satiation with the envious orgasm coursing up and down through her body serves a considerable distraction.

The hilt leaves his chest, and his eyes widen in horror.

She swaps hands behind her back.

The blade dips into his other collar, blood quickly seeping through the skin as the rattle of his tongue persists.

Rapid blade sweeps carve an identical, mirrored pattern into him blindly as her orgasm only intensifies. Her body shakes more violently, legs squeezing against his face so hard it effectively locks his jaw wide open. The edge of her scarf slowly creeps down her chest as her quivering shakes it loose.

Eren can practically hear his tongue screaming at him to stop. But, is more fearful of the potential wrath of the woman with a blade of whom is more than capable of killing multiple imposing titans with a dulled, broken, and single edged short sword; even if she is momentarily incapacitated by an overwhelming orgasm shutting out her other senses and even if she is fanatically intimate with him alone. He still bets the plausibility that she notices his retreat being far more dangerous than some muscle strain, though.

His tongue continues writhing around inside her, protesting all the same.

Seconds pass as the pain creeps through his jaw and into his ears.

Finally, he feels her relax. Her weight sinks onto his face as her head drops, looking down at him with a much kinder tone than previous. He stuffs his hope in a box, and waits.

He blinks, vainly attempting to push the pain now coursing through his whole head aside. Her fingers sweep through his hair, gently pulling at the curls in his hair while her eyes flash over his, dancing side to side exuberantly. The knife drops to his chest for the moment it takes her to adjust the scarf from her breasts.

“You can stop,” her tone is soft, reclaiming the knife.

Eren relaxes immediately, letting his tongue slack in his mouth and relaxing his whole head. A curdle chokes through his throat as he groans.

Mikasa turns slightly, her head shifting backwards and eyeing something. Eren pays no attention as he tries to focus on his reprieve.

He feels her fingers tease his head, briskly brushing over the smooth skin drawing him to attention. Blood swells into his softened rod.

She puckers her lips, looking back down at him expectantly. Her hips shake, her legs crawling backwards from his face over his chest until she feels the familiar pressure of his erection press against her from behind.

The blade flutters between her fingers expertly, dancing back and forth through them for several seconds as he recognizes the flashing of metal in the light. His head raises, eyes widening as he dreads more bloodshed – _his_ bloodshed. Her hand flicks upward violently, the blade jiving through the air with a ridiculous rate of spin and flipping end over end. Her hand disappears, giving the impression she’s going to let the blade land where it will, calculated or not.

His eyes widen even more, head rising to look over his chest as he expects the hilt to protrude from his skin any moment. The knife hits its apex, still spinning about rapidly as gravity pulls it back down to his chest.

The tip of the blade stops less than a centimeter from his navel, pincered between two of Mikasa’s fingers. Blade facing downward toward their hips. A wry grin menaces her face.

Eren drops his head to the floor, relieved.

He feels the tip of the blade touch his skin, spinning 180 degrees until she traces it up to the center of his sternum, dancing around on the tip in another flourish. The weight of the knife rests on the tip, sinking into his skin. He is unsure if it pierces his flesh and rests on his bone or is simply balanced on his skin, either way he refuses to breathe.

Her fingers circle around his girth, slowly drawing his skin upward as his involuntary response hardens his mass. Two more strokes is all it takes until she feels him hard enough to ride. She wastes no time, pitching him upright and rapidly enclosing the confines of her legs around his upright member. Long, smooth strokes draw her hips up and down his length. Soaking in the feeling of filling her own desire at her own tenacious pace. Her hips flick, reveling as she feels him stimulate a streak of nerves on either side of her body. The tension blazes up through her body, pronounced on her flanks and in her arms.

A shiver races over her skin, briskly followed by goosebumps flushing over parts of her forearms.

Eren notices her pull something from her belt, but not before it slaps into his chest wound.

He inhales in surprise, breathing in a long-delayed breath as he waited for the blade to leave his skin. _Still_ waits for it to leave his skin.

It sinks into his flesh, stopping against the bone of his fused ribs.

_Euhheh… shitt…_ he groans to himself, resenting the blade more than the woman holding it. His mind bends between the multiple sources of bleeding, crushing pain, and irksome levels of pleasure seeping into his mind from multiple opposing directions. He tries to steady himself, mentally as she sinks herself onto him in another terse sweep of her hips. _Tatakae… (fight…)_ He wrenches his head forward, looking up at her solemnly.

Their eyes catch and she immediately recognizes the look. A sweep of the paddle across his cheek and a very light pressure on the blade does little to quell his doggedness. Recognizing the futility of the effort, she stands, collecting the knife and paddle in a single hand. She steps over to bench and grabs the black box from its confines.

The top bounces onto the table in the center of the room – Mikasa closes the distance between them in a fleeting second, back to her position atop his subordinated staff with ease. She drops the paddle, letting it fall from his ab to the floor as she replaces the knife on his sternum.

Eren’s eyes still blaze the same fury as ever.

She presses the metal prongs of the black box into his flank, then presses the button.

A jolt of electricity arcs through his side, sharply contracting his body to the side for a brief instant. _Motherf-_ “UCker!!”

She laughs at him; loud and cheery. Eren tries to scramble out from under her, ignoring the blade scraping over his chest irregularly, but utterly fails with her multipronged grip retaining him. “That would temper you,” she laughs, surely not expecting it to actually tame him.

Still, he struggles. His eyes flare up again, mouth opening in what would likely be a torrent of various expletives and only moderately disingenuous threats – all promptly cut off by another bolt of electricity. His body mirrors the jolt – a prompt yelp sprouting through his throat. He curses at the open air, despite his furor, still careful to aim it not at her, but at the objects. Open space. His own demure. Anything but at her…

She zaps him again. His face snarls, contorting as he tries to muzzle himself just enough to avoid the pain of direct current electricity. Breathing deeply, he opens his eyes again and focus them on her face. Her attention firms on his reactions, ignoring the protrusion between her legs for the time being.

Slowly, deliberately she presses the prongs to his belly and holds his eyes. Eren doesn’t move, laying rigid on his arms as he waits with an unlikely bated breath.

Mikasa doesn’t press the button, but keeps the crude battery firmly presses against his skin as she slowly resumes stroking her hips over him. Eren groans as the sharp pains of being electrocuted, slapped, and incised break away to attempting to suppress, actually _suppress_ his strong erection.

She flips the knife up, licking the blade clean on both sides and folding it together with one hand. It attaches back to the belt and she picks up the paddle, pressing the short edge into his cheek, just above his jaw until he eases his head back to the ground. Her head tips back in anticipation, awaiting his compliance as her hips rock and roll over him with rising intensity. Slowly, somehow still reluctantly, he accedes. The paddle briefly tips away from his face, “No noise. No climax.” Her hips roll front to back with an articulate exaggeration, “Understood?”

His eyes shimmer, but he nods hesitantly.

“Good.”

She steps on the gas, rapidly sweeping past any barriers she had on her movement. The paddle flops to the stone, one hand still holding the battery to his belly. Her free hand slicks over his chest wound, using the blood as lubrication until her palm seals most of the major pair of lacerations. But it doesn’t prevent more blood seeping around the edges. His chest shrinks away from the pain, succeeding in going nowhere as more of her weight shifts onto his bleeding heart. Her hips twerk feverishly, rising until just the tip of his head rolls around inside her. Then sinks back down with a ciphered pattern.

Her abdomen stutters, feeling the initial clutter of euphoria sweep across her lower waist. The feeling rises, incredulous and reluctant at first. But rises nonetheless. Her head rolls around, down and looking at him through cloaked bangs. Eye contact blistering, forceful, and weighty.

Eren struggles to hold the view, his subconscious mind absolutely determined to fill her with a warm, white fluid. His legs trembling, toes curl vicariously, he feels his mind failing its one and only conscious task at hand – endure. A minor shift in his posture moves more of their weight onto the metal cuffs around his wrists, using the biting pain as something of an anchor to focus on. But it does little to wipe away the insatiable desire to explode.

He feels her lean backward, his erection following her movement. Stretching downward at an unusual angle as he finally recognizes her mind is swimming. That does little to abate the heat in his waist, though. The desire to release himself still strains his mind extensively, prying its fibers apart as he struggles to find something, _anything_ to distract himself… _Tatakae… (Fight…) Focus. Retaliation. Reprisal. Retribution…_

Eren feels her stop moving, but weight still seemingly falling towards his legs – a bloody hand drags a streak of blood down his abdomen.

Debating with himself, he gives in to his curiosity. Raising his head, he sees her body in a great obtuse. A single arm against the floor as she struggles with herself for the moment to keep balanced. But he still dares not move.

Seconds pass.

Her legs contort, her body flinging itself forward until both forearms rest on his chest. Black hair isolates their heads as she breathes deeply.

Mikasa opens her eyes. Steel grey eyes spark against the ocean eyes below her, her mouth askew. Laggard, Mikasa slumps to his chest – the dense drains of energy finally catching up with her consciousness.

Eren coughs, less of discomfort and more to try and slyly remove himself from her confines so he no longer need fight with himself anymore than he already waits. If she cares, she gives no outward sign; still slumped against his chest. Her head retracts, her breathing catching up with her like her dappled energy reserves. She barely feels his blood squeeze between her jaw and his chest, head slacking into his neck.

Seconds bleed into minutes. Eren begins questioning if he can move.

She feels his legs shift somehow. Her faded eyes brighten slightly, hands planting on his chest again. She rises, enough to look down at him and draw a fresh breath of air. Her legs straighten, standing and turning back to the bench without saying anything. Eren sits up, greatly relieved to no longer be resting on his arms.

“Y’know, I have been tortured before… but _that_ …” he trails off before long, “ahh..” he feels a sharp pain shoot through his lung, “god damn, woman…” He shakes his head, heaving a lungful of air without her weight on him.

Mikasa’s face pulses with satisfaction. She turns back to him, her hand running through his hair and taking control again. His head follows her grip, pulling him back to the stone. He groans, getting flashbacks of the whole ordeal all over again. _Why, why did I have to say something._

Her hips jimmy over his face again, right up to the point that his eyes evenly cast up the vertical surface of her body. The blade appears from its holster. His eyes stare at hers, coasting right over the landscape of her body.

_Ahhhh……_

It flicks sideways and the broad end presses against the smooth skin between her hips, the pointed tip aiming at the crease between her legs. She sways her head back and forth, acting innocent. “Perhaps… it has something to do with this?” she taps the blade to her skin a few times.

Eren says nothing. A quick flick of his tongue through her nether region being his one and only response.

She withdraws the blade, stowing it smartly. Her lips purse, gratified, “That’s what I thought.”

Standing once more, she produces a key from the inside of her belt. It melts into the locks between his ankles and unshackles his legs. She hangs the cuffs over her belt. Eren looks up at her while her back is turned, a flash of rebellion framing his demeanor.

“Stand,” she commands. He follows, swiftly.

_Too swiftly._ She squints at him, knowing the signs.

His stance shifts, everything just shy of asking to have his hands uncuffed. She pretends to go with it, “Turn around.” He obeys, more careful to hide his intentions. “Lean forward,” she begins shunting his planning. He tries to work a new plan in the interim, but follows. “Keep going,” she points him toward the ground “Ninety degrees to the floor. Your hands to the floor the moment _one_ hand is uncuffed.” A brief pause, then adds, “Hands _together_.”

_Crap.._

He continues to obey, leaning forward until his upper body runs parallel to the floor. He feels her adjust the cuffs, a single one unlocking. The slightest hesitation brings a kick to his shin, spreading his legs. He rests his weight on his four extremities, hands together.

She walks around in front of him and reclasps the open cuff to his wrist. Eren tries his level best to fight back the urge to resist. But like it or not, she can still see it dwelling within him without the slightest issue.

“Stand.” He obeys. “You have sixty-nine seconds to clean the whole room. No blood, no water on the ground. Table centered. Both mugs on the tabletop behind me.” She pauses very briefly, “Oh, and finish the banana. From ‘go,’ understood?” Eren’s eyes narrow, his lips quiver in protest to the perfectly legitimate issue of having nothing to clean the fluids with. She anticipates him, however. Reaching into a hamper in the wall corner by the base of the stairs, she pulls out a single red towel and a single light blue towel, tossing each into the room in a discombobulated clump. “Understood?”

He hesitates a quarter of a breath, but nods curtly.

She waits.

And waits…

She produces a stopwatch from her belt. Twenty breaths later, “Go.”

Eren moves without haste. He grabs the red towel and draws it towards his chest, but she snaps at him, “Ahh-ah! Other way around.”

He hesitates, but silently complies. He drops the red towel and spreads it over the ground with his feet, drawing up most of the puddled water on the floor while nudging the table to center. He can see her eyebrows ruffle from the corner of his vision, taking it as a reminder of _“no water”_ being completely literal. His feet swipe in broader strokes, covering more ground until he sees nothing glistening on the ground. Tossing the red towel into the corner beside the hamper, he grabs the light blue one and pats it against his chest – drying and removing the congealed blood. Unsure if she meant the blood on her too, he hesitates, looking at her face carefully; no lower.

Mikasa catches his hesitation and steps forward. She hinges her jaw down, but keeps her lips sealed together as she leans forward with an innocent detention. He takes a few seconds to draw a clean edge of the towel to her jaw and cheeks, precisely wiping the thin streaks and imprints of blood from her face.

He tosses the towel into the corner then moves the mug on the center table to the surface behind her.

Her finger nudges at piecemeal remains of the banana. He squints at her. Her composure hardens immediately. Still squinting at her in contempt, he stoops over and pops the small piece into his mouth, swallowing without chewing.

She stops the timer. A brow lifts, “Fifty seconds.” A brief pause as she reacts, “Good man-whore.”

Mikasa turns and grabs the mugs with one hand, gripping the black box between the fingers of the same hand. But before she completely lifts the mugs from the table, she notices Eren’s movement; She need not see the rebellious motions to know his form.

The knife edge presses against the long of his nose in an instant. She stands on her tiptoes, evening their heights while coaxing him backwards as she ‘encourages’ him with the blade. “Oh? Have we forgotten the hierarchy here?” His eyes cross, focusing on the blade momentarily before resting on her very adamant face.

She holds the pose, waiting for an answer.

“Mhmm, that’s what I thought.” She removes the blade from his face, “You have two choices: either I cuff your ankles again and you struggle your way to the top of the stairs before I release you… OR you walk up to the top of the stairs without the embarrassment, then I release you.” She perks up, letting her candor seep through her tone, “Your choice.”

Eren’s eyes narrow, skeptical of the trap.

The blade reappears unexpectedly, “ _No tricks,_ ” she threatens him.

His eyes narrow again, but his head dips. “Now, please.”

The blade disappears just as quickly, “Good.”

She begins to turn away. Eren tries to make it look like he’s just wiping his hair aside, but the cuffs are pressed up against her side – he utterly fails to swipe them from her.

Her response is swift and severe; a leg sweeps under his in a blur, crashing him to the ground. “ _Baka… (Stupid)…”_

Eren barely catches the flash of battery press to his neck before feeling the jolt wrap around his neck. He tenses as the electricity convulses his neck muscles.

He lies on the ground, groaning as his body aches at him for falling from standing _and_ the subsequent shock. His eyes roll around in his head. Cuffs click shut around his ankles.

“Option one it is,” she chirps, as if completely expecting the outcome anyhow. She kicks his thigh, “Get up.” He groans again, not moving. “ _Get up,_ ” more forcefully. He shifts, his legs contracting to right himself and stand as commanded. “No funny business.” She advances ahead of him, standing at the bottom of the stairs with her tools and nothing more. Pointing at the mugs on the counter, “You get the mugs, one in each hand. Hold them by the handle with your index, middle, and ring fingers. No thumbs. You break either one of them, we start from square one again.”

Eren shuffles over to the counter and grabs them as instructed. She ascends the stairs, watching him slowly shamble up the steps one at a time. He gets two thirds of the way up the stairs when she rounds on him; a firm shove tips him off balance just as her hands connect with his hair, the battery suddenly against his skin again. “ _There will be no retaliation. Understood?”_ She can see the panic flicker through his eyes. Her hand fakes pulling him in, “ _Who do you belong to?_ ”

Eren doesn’t hesitate, “You.” His normally emblazoned eyes tempered, submissive .

She holds the falter, just long enough to let an ominous shade suggest itself. Then pulls him forward to balance on his own before she finishes the last few stairs.

He reaches the top of the stairs and she unlocks all four bindings. Her mood visibly softens, “Can you put the cups by the kettle, please. I’d like more tea.” He says nothing, using walking as a sign of complying.

_You say no retaliation…_ _but that is not my nature_. His eyes narrow in thought as she walks into the bedroom, stowing the toys. _If not now… then.._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll try to write it ambiguously so that you could consider it a part 3, if you are willing to except the space-time inversion or think of similar events being linked. After that, I probably need a change of pace…. Lol.  
> EDIT: Yeah I'm going to write something other than BDSM for the next chapter. I'll get around to it again anyhow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll probably take a short break from this collection after this chapter; I have some requests for 1st/2nd person Character x Reader stories that will make up a new collection.  
> Thank you to all those who left kudos/favorites, and especially to those of you who have commented or PM’d me with your inputs. You’re a big reason why I keep writing. 😊
> 
> T/W and tags: Romantic/intimate, conversation & light angst, cum swallow.  
> I am a bit unsure of the angst in this one, so let me know your thoughts. It came up naturally as part of writing (unplanned), but still feels a tad forced because I have writer’s leniency with not describing his thoughts more in-depth.

Mikasa feels Eren’s fingers skimming under the covers, the bedsheets raising in advance of his motion. A single, smooth motion wraps his arm over her side, between her breasts, and latching his hand to her collar bone.

A gentle tug and some shuffling of his own closes the distance between their bodies. She can feel him grumble groggily as his face sinks into the space between her head and chest, burying itself in the superb, warm feeling of extensive skin-to-skin contact with much of her body. The pair can still feel the distant, dull ache of a previous night of love making over their conjoined, naked bodies.

He mumbles something incoherent, still very groggy as the words fall from his lips in a deep, choppy lull. Mikasa feels her heart rise in her chest, tickled by his intimacy and from his attempting to speak through his morning grog.

But he doesn’t stop there.

His legs sweep over the bed and spoon into hers, his knees bending to fit the contours of her legs under the toasty covers. The arm over her chest contracts just a bit more, Eren shaking his body to shimmy out the last few pockets of air between his chest and her back.

Their skin touches nearly completely from head to toe.

Mikasa hums intimately. Easily drawn into the full body contact from the first moment of wakefulness. Her head skips toward him slightly.

“Mmm..” she starts, the progressive awareness of his body touching hers floating through mind. “Good morning, Babe.” Mikasa’s eyes bat open and shut a few times, buzzing pleasurably as she speaks. Her hand slides through the layers of fabric until it can crook around his arm over her chest.

Eren continues shifting his body, chasing out any spaces between them.

Her head nods against the pillow as the warm feeling of his body soaks into her from head to toe.

His tone cheery, but still deep and choppy, “Good morning, _my love_.” Their hair intermingles even more as he oscillates his head against hers, rubbing their cheeks together for a few seconds before he stops and look into her eye with a passionate embrace as she turns to meet him.

Her lips pucker a bit as their eyes meet. Legs shift slightly, her lower leg parting his and slipping behind them as tension builds in her body.

She flips herself around, facing him. Solidifying her leg between his, she runs a hand up between the pair until she can rustle his hair thoughtfully. A content grin greets her as her eyes loose themselves in the bosom of blue-green sea-colored eyes directly in front of her.

Eren’s arm shifts to her lower back, a loving tug pressing their abs together as his legs twist around hers more fully. She watches as his head creeps forward on the pillow, eyes sparking together as the distance steadily closes.

His lips part ever so partially the moment before their lips touch.

Mikasa immediately leans into the kiss, showering in the intense intimacy of their privacy. She feels the hand on her back skirt down to her hip, his fingers delicately pressing into her as he enjoys the moment, too. Heated bodies pressed to one another in a loving, committed embrace.

He breaks the kiss, backing away just slightly as his hand falls a little farther down “This,” he squeezes her gently, the groggy morning fog in his voice still present, “This, is mine.” A broad, genuine grin spreading over his face as he feels the proverbial weight on his chest tingle with a superfluous, lighthearted embrace. The tip of a finger brushes over her butt as his lips meet with hers in another flirty dance.

Mikasa breaks the kiss, but immediately reconnects with him. Several shuffles of her head back and forth as she enjoys each kiss anew. The grin on his face grows, feeling the same joy creeping though his mind as she.

His hand loosens absentmindedly, coasting over her butt until his wild hand feels her private skin.

He feels her legs tense up, recognizing where his hand has fallen.

Eren wraps both arms around her and rotates the couple to the side until she lays atop his body. An ecstatic smile shoots through her lips, biting together at the end as she composes a subtle rock of her hips over his abs – his heat soaking through her and spinning up the intimately reserved engine between her legs.

But Eren is still kissy, his arms flowing up and down her back as he revels in the feeling of her curves both below his hands and her weight resting on him with a stimulating reassurance. Their lips sink into one another once more, the impassioned morning energy filling the both of them without fail.

His hands briefly stop, one on her flank and another aside her breast. Her lips firm as she feels his hands electrifying the will spontaneously flashing up and down parts of her body.

Resuming their pace as he recognizes his idleness, he feels her weight shift around. Her body presses into him with a growing fervor, the hot feeling rising through her chest and surfacing into the skin of her breasts. She can feel the insides of her thighs tingle expectantly.

Her hands plant beside him and she slips her hips backwards, tightly entrapping his growing mass between her legs. He feels the anticipation leap through his chest, consolidating in his genitals with a sensitive flush. Seconds pass; their eyes never moving from one another as the tension builds precipitously.

Mikasa’s head rolls around slightly, the taunting stimulation of his shaft pressed against her absolutely buzzing through her head. But Eren can anticipate her shifting.

His arms wrap around her, adamant and firm; twisting himself around and her with him until she lays on her side of the bed again. He jumps up, resting on his knees in front of her as he pulls her legs up together and folds them to her chest. The moment she feels her knees press against her breasts, Eren leans forward, resting his chest on her shins and applying just enough weight to encourage her to follow his lead.

He takes her arms in hand and skirts them up the bedspread until her hands lay buried under the pillow holding her head. Arms and hands mirror hers, touching as much of their flesh together as is possible in the position he has chosen. His knees briefly squeeze her thighs together, affirming she is tight and inviting.

He rubs his engorged skin up from the tight valley between her legs and over the sensitive skin on the inside of either of her thighs. Her head tips back into the pillow, biting her lip as the sensation stimulates her whole body.

Eren’s head tips forward, closing the distance between them until their breathing heats the limited air between them in an instant, “Who’s my slut?”

Mikasa hums exuberantly, her eyes rolling around in bliss before he’s even penetrated her. “Mmmhmm.. _Mee…_ ” she trails off, fully expecting to feel the sudden rush of his cock within her. But it doesn’t come.

His body contracts around her, arms first feeling the inside of his biceps brush against her shoulders and catching the tickle of a few stray hairs. His hips close even tighter to hers, chest pressed firmly to her legs.

“Hey,” his voice soft, tender, the morning fog mostly faded from his throat now, “Look at me.” Their eyes already locked together, minus the few brief moments where her eyes would roll back into her head as her mind danced around in the blissful feeling of their bodies wrapped together.

Her cool grey eyes open widely, then simmer down to an uncomfortable look as she waits for his thrust with a crushing anticipation. Their eyes homogenize, deftly seeking and holding the other’s attention.

Slowly, gradually he sinks himself into her.

Her chest expands with a breath mirroring his advance; slow, powerful, inseparable. Her eyes shrink under her eye lids as the intense pleasure fills her mind, the slightest tear welling up against the push of her eyelids in each eye before they finally retreat – her mind reasserting itself. A whimper evacuates her lips as the second last inch of him stimulates her complete engagement with the same firm, consistent push into her.

Eren can feel her arms flex uncontrollably. He lets his head fall forward, briefly touching their foreheads together until withdrawing and speaking again; barely a whisper, “Who’s mine?”

Mikasa responds without hesitation, eyes barely open under the flood of sensitivity from between her legs, a thick “I amm” drooping from her lips at the same pace as the last inch of him buries within her walls.

Eren groans audibly, his mind refocused on the stubborn attention of her tight, wet walls griping every cell he gives her. Her mind is little different; engrossed in the spreading sensation of his mass pressed deep within her, spreading over her body like an unstoppable ooze. She feels him pull out, the tip of his head leaving her confines. She whines, heartily desperate for nothing but more of his embrace.

Eren gives it to her, sinking himself back into her with a single motion. Her chest ripples.

Out, and back in.

Her whine returns, growing to an audible whimper.

Out, and in.

Her chest buzzes, the whimper growing to a closed moan.

Out, and return. A shade more force.

Her arms flex and legs tension against his compressions. He enjoys the feeling of her body reacting to him.

Out, and back in. Another step of force.

The slow, deliberate pace is too much for her. Or rather, too little.

“Just. Give it to me,” she whines, looking up at him through desperate eyes. “All of it. All of you.” She continues, goading him on in a way she knows he won’t resist, “Fill mee… I want itt…” Her fingers lace between his, digging into the back of his hands, “ _Give it to meee_ …” Her chin dips toward her chest, eyeing him, marshalling against his resistance.

But he does resist, however briefly.

Only one more swing of his hips into her at a similar pace as his previous building.

His body contracts around her even more tightly. She squints up at him as the rhythmic pounding washes away in the consistent warm glow of her body exciting. Eren’s pace pulls away, intensifying his humping as he sees her eyes squeezing shut. Her fingers relax as the familiar warm glow builds past a gentle aura, fluttering past the threshold into an active process of feeling her muscles contract and her senses fading away into a blissful exuberance.

Mikasa’s lips pucker, a long coo seeping from her throat into the minute spaces between them. Her eyes flicker open for a few moments as the cool rush streaks down through her head to her toes, making them curl as the euphoric onrush follows behind the sweep of cold. Eren grins at his efforts, but still holding himself back as he powers her elation, choosing to give into her fervent temptation when she can actually feel it most. Her eye lashes flutter again, a brief lucid moment flowing past her mind as Eren slows his thrusts to a crawl.

He can feel her legs expanding, presumably as she regains more control of herself from the draining ecstasy. She sees him smile at warmly. Her teeth scrape over her lips, “Mmm, Babeee…” she awaits.

His throat hums, breaking into words through his pacing, “Mmm, I know… What’d you think I was waiting for?” Her eyelashes flutter at him. He touches their lips together tentatively, sinking himself within her as he lowers his barriers.

Only seconds later Mikasa can feel him plunge into her, holding deep and steady as his arms flex around her and she feels the warm stream of fluid course into her in uneven, heavy pulses. He feels her fingers pulsate against his hand, teasing his attention away from his climax. His eyes refocus on her; she reseals the kiss that was momentarily broken.

Eren can feel her legs side skirt him, falling to his right side. His energy lowered, but not dissipated, he takes advantage – arms withdraw, one wrapping around her right leg and pulling it upward until he can hold it to her side while he looks at her and strokes himself through her. A hand slips through her hair and pulls back gently, locking her head in place as her eyes shimmer to life yet again.

His pace steadily rises, leaning more of his weight into her leg and holding her open to him in direct contrast to the tight, cramped quarters of the first position. Their lips press together, occasionally broken by the beat of his hips hitting hers.

Mikasa begins nodding unconsciously, an innate response of feeling him connect with her. Her hands whip around their constellation, fingers burying themselves in his hair as she pulls his head closer to hers. With their objective complete, her arms slack, sinking down toward his back. A hand grabs her wrist as they wrap around the back of his neck and shoulders. Her nodding intensifies even as it becomes conscious, staggering their kissing between the competing thrusts and nodding.

Eren feels her restrained leg tense into him, a clear sign that her natural physical resistances are melting away as he pushes her closer and closer to another cliff. He picks up his pace, adding more force to his strokes as he seeks to throw her off the cliff without mercy. His hand’s grip of her hair tightens, leaning into the kiss, suppressing her nodding.

She bites his lip. Hard.

Barely catching his eyes skit off toward the horizon in an instantaneous moment of distance. Their kiss breaks, seemingly as his own resistance fades away.

His eyes roll, washed up and down by competing physical pain in his lip, the unavoidable sensations streaming through his skin from his erection being massaged by her welcoming walls, and the palpable feeling of being connected with her in a roaring intimacy.

“Eren…” her tone soft. Supple.

_The hints_ of the past washing away – the fighting, the violence, the struggles of surviving, the emotional contradictions and rage of self-paradoxes tearing him asunder… seeping, bleeding off as figments of a previous life only connected by the faintest of existences.

“Eren…” her tone warm, kind. Connected. Pitch rising.

_The unusual_ creep of comfort, acceptance, wholesomeness, elation, and coalescence of the recent months rush into mind against the lifelong fight to achieve some sort of lasting peace; internal and external.

“Eren…” her tone reflecting the internal assurance she no doubt feels the whirling within both mind and body, obscenely sodden in delectation. Wholly in the moment as her mind swirls joyously.

_Heartache_ fades into mind. The physical, dull pain aching through his chest.

“Eren…” her tone absent of the past. Wholly in the moment as the climactic storm in her mind pushing past its crux and begins ebbing.

_Lifetimes_ of anguish push back, overcoming the forefront of his attention in a cataclysm of violent anamnesis. He falls to the bed in conflict with himself, his head slumping against the pillow as he presses his hands into his face and eyes brutally, vainly suppressing the tears welling past his conscious.

Mikasa’s face drains, only partially recovered from the orgasm as she recognizes Eren’s sudden withdrawal. Finding herself studying him in an instantaneous eternity as panic flashes through mind, confronted with something completely unexpected in Eren’s retreat in what otherwise seems a delightful moment. She sits upright nearly as quickly as the panic flashes through mind, trying to piece together his movements to build a threat picture.

_Pain? Physical? Something medical? No, he’s not b-_

He audibly chokes back a sob, his palms pressing even deeper into his face, turning his skin a pasty white. Her fingers unfurl, delicately touching his side as she looks at him with a longing, returning heartache.

“Eren.. Talk to m-” Mikasa reaches out to him, physically and emotionally.

“Peace,” he says suddenly. “War,” he continues, choking off the assault of another sob. “Peace… War…” he trails off. “Violence and conflict. Peace and diplomacy…” a tear streams down his face. “Always…”

His arms release some of their tension from his face, the initial wave of mental anguish fading somewhat.

Then the rage kicks in, sweeping through his body in a fit. He sits upright in a flash and clenches his fists furiously. His face deepens to a frantic red, the anger surging through him as he bashes the undersides of his fists into the bedspread. “Where does it end?” he swats at the bed again. The rage steadies for a moment, long enough for him to rise from the bed and pace around a few times.

Mikasa crawls up to the edge of the bed closest to him, her chest tense as she struggles with her patience, waiting for more of the picture come out.

His pacing increases, pausing for a brief moment as he stops and turns toward a large mirror hung on the wall. He walks over to the mirror, bracing his hands on either side as he glares at himself.

Mikasa watches him diligently.

He grits his teeth, cursing at himself over something she cannot see. Her hand clutches to her chest.

He punches the wall, finding it solid brickwork and crumpling his hand under the aggression. The pain sweeps through his hand into the rest of his body; a temporary, self-destructive reprieve from his turmoil. She can see him grimace as the physical pain subsides.

Eren leans into the wall again, “Always something…”

Mikasa breathes, thinking she has a better grasp of the situation; a familiar one. _But this time… a different answer._ Her chin tips to her chest as she contemplates her approach briefly, standing a fraction of a second later.

His head falls between his arms, “So… what now…”

Mikasa’s characteristic lightness on the “r” and the “n” show brightly, “Eren.” She stands and walks up behind him. Her fingers skim against his flanks, quickly followed by the rest of her hands and arms as she wraps them around him. Turning him away from the mirror, she stands upright, looking into his eyes as he focuses on her – his emotiveness has tapered off, but she can still see the flickers of uncertainty bouncing around in his eyes. “Eren, we aren’t fighting anything anymore. _You know_ things have settled out.”

Eren looks back at her blankly, obviously not settled on (nor buying) the fact of their still-new situation.

Mikasa tries to reassure him of their circumstances, “No one is trying to kill us, now. We’re not at war anymore, Eren.”

He retorts plainly, “No one that we know of.”

“Then we’ll deal with them when it comes up, as we always have.” She laughs gently, as if the trauma of near-constant conflict has been inconsequential, “It isn’t like we can’t handle what people throw at us. We’re not just soldiers, after all. We are survivors. We do whatever it takes. That is part of who we are. It.. Always has been.” She knows the last bit is a bit of a lie, but its close enough – and nonetheless truthful that they are indeed resilient souls.

His look softens, slightly.

Mikasa turns him back to the mirror with a firm twist of her arms, “What do you see?” She steps up behind him, her hands wrapping around his wait again.

He muses quietly, looking at the mirror in silence as his eyes slowly sweep over his body – the scars of many battles, accumulated. Physical. Mental.

Mikasa leans forward slightly, shifting her weight onto the fronts of her feet to peek at him in the mirror over his shoulder. Her black hair contrasts with the lukewarm color of the skin and walls, a distinct oval silhouetted against the light backdrop. Eyes melding into the mass of her hair just enough to be difficult to notice – for anyone else.

She answers for him, “Us.”

The words take a moment to seep into his mind, but they do nonetheless... and.. they’re powerful. His tension eases more.

“The only ‘something’ right now, is _us_.” The words lap over him like an unexpected, yet completely awaited sea wave. _Long_ awaited, if rather dysfunctional and wandering for much of it.

More tension fades away. His eyes hover over the reflection of hers in the mirror. He cannot see her smile, but its very real and astronomically present.

Her head cants forward, her forehead nuzzling against his shoulder as her arms tighten around him. She can feel it bubble up through her chest, the same, long awaited and previously unfortunately-long-lasted indisposed feeling of love for him.

“I love you.”

It does not come from her.

Her head lifts from his shoulder. He watches her attentively, eyes rising from behind him with a glittering shimmer in the morning sunlight flowing through the room’s open floor plan.

Mikasa can see the absence of his pain, ever present just breaths ago. All washed away in his steely, determined resolve as it reconnects with the man, the mission, and the moment. She smiles, feeling the peace grace her too. Her arms tighten around him some more.

Her nose rubs against the back of his shoulder, “I love you, too.” A wide smile adorning her face. Eren’s hands rub over her arms, embracing her hug.

Mikasa’s feet leave the ground, leaping up and wrapping her legs around his waist where her arms just were. Her arms unclasping and conjoining over his shoulders and around in front of his neck. She tilts her head to the side as he catches his new balance, not quite expecting such a reaction. Her eyes gleam with his; now he can see her smiling.

Eren feels her fingernail poke and scratch over his chest with pointed nuance, “Lets go to the hot spring.” He catches a renewed grin spreading over her face, clearly using him as personalized transport. A pithy grin returns her mischievous smirk.

He walks them over to the dresser and bends sideways towards the towels resting onto of the dresser, hinting for her to grasp a pair for them.

She picks up a single towel.

Eren’s brow furrows at her, challenging her selectiveness.

She collects the towel to his chest in both hands, “I’m the only one getting wet now. You can come back and get yours later.” His frown continues, reaching out to grab one for himself. But her hand swats at him, “Ah! I said I’m the only one getting wet right now.” Her hand gestures forward, “Keep walkin’.”

Eren refuses to move. “Why?”

She hides behind his head, hoping to avoid the question altogether, but clearly he isn’t going anywhere without an answer as he reaches back and prods her side with a crooked finger.

Her legs clench around him, flexing as she lifts herself high enough to whisper into his ear, tongue close enough to tickle him, “Because I’m thirsty.” A quick nip at his earlobe gets her point across well enough. She slaps his chest impatiently, bouncing up and down on his back slightly, “Lets go!”

He still waits a moment, but continues forward. Walking right through the open main entryway out to the natural hot spring just steps away, he dips his feet into the carved stairs until the hot water floats up to his shins, then side steps a few times to a seating bench carved into the natural stone. She taps his chest again, “Stop here.”

Her legs unlock from his waist, the weight momentarily resting on his shoulders for the brief second it takes her to fall to her feet. She tosses the towel aside the water’s edge some distance away and sinks waist deep into the water while pointing at a nearby junction, where he can dangle his legs in the water freely and still sit on the pavement beside the spring, “Sit there.”

Slowly sinking into the water, she acclimates to the bubbling water and sweeps up to the edge as he sits. Eren waits implacably, wanting to join her in the swirling water. A whet disinterest is plain on his face, far more resigned to the relaxation of hot, bubbling water over his body.

Her fingers latch onto his big toes, wet tips of her hair tracing over his thigh as she glides her head over his leg. She looks up at him angelically, teasing eye contact and puckering her lips as she teases him. “Oh? Not interested?” her fingers tug at his toes. “Not in the mood?”

She hinges her jaw open, letting her tongue hang out ever so slightly as she looks up at him. A subtle gnawing motion and flicking of her tongue catches his attention more fully. But he doesn’t quite let her in on that bit.

Hot, wet fingers emerge from the water. She rights her head, holding center and making beady eye contact from between his legs as she traces the tips of her fingers up the inside of his legs. Her eyes flick between watching her tracing and making eye contact, sure to keep up edgy movements to her lips as she goes. A warm trail of water lines up, then back down his thighs. She tips her head to his other leg, repeating the chaff with another shade of amorous regard. More wet hair tickles his thigh.

She can see him growing despite his obvious efforts at remaining distant and implacable. Just a few heartbeats later, his grown shaft is within comfortable reach. Her tongue tastes his head, sweeping up from the bottom to the top in a single smooth stroke. Mikasa flutters her eyes at him again, waiting another moment before slipping her lips over his head tenaciously.

Eren’s eyelids fade back, a momentary lapse in concentration. Her head rolls to the inside, lips following the turn and eyes still sparkling at his as she knows full well where his attention shifts to now. Both her hands return to the swirling waters, one arm crossing over her chest and down beneath herself until her fingers connect with the bundle of nerves between her legs. Mikasa leans forward, her shoulders rising from the embracing waters as her lips sink farther down his erection.

He suppresses a groan; his fingers creeping toward her head.

Despite the tunnel vision on his face, her other hand shoots from the water and swats his away with a curt snap. She mumbles an, “Nnnhmm,” through the meat in her mouth. His hand stops but does not withdraw. Her lips pop off his head. Eyes still fixated on his, she lets her lips brush against the tip of his penis as she speaks, “ _I’m_ thirsty. Let me…” her tongue coasts around his skin, “work.”

Though inaudible, she can hear him groan in reluctance. But his hands do fall back, himself leaning backwards on his palms as he looks down and watches her head engulf him.

For a few moments all he can see of her is the semi-gloss of her black hair bobbing up and down on his shaft, working him into her throat in steady customs. Eren feels another heartbeat propel additional blood into the mass harbored in her mouth, swelling to an even more erect stature as his mind increasingly implodes around the hot, wet mouth sliding around his sensitive skin.

Mikasa feels a counter current churn opposite to the water pushing out from the center of the pool. His legs sweep forward and back, heels pressing into the side of the cut stone perimeter of the spring as his head increasingly mirrors the water’s movements – circling around the stimulations of a jutting erection.

But she doesn’t let him get off quite so easily.

Her head retreats, leaving behind a slick coat of saliva over the entire cylinder of skin. His head levers forward, mindfulness draining away from the growing elation of feeling her mouth and throat rippling and coaxing his every cell within her. A short grunt of discontent makes his protest known.

A hand rises from the water again, her thumb rubbing up the bottom of his shaft, palm and fingers wrapping around the rest of his girth. She looks up at him, a contradictory craving apparent on her face as she bites her lips, fluttering her eyes and dancing between his eyes.

Eren leans forward, a hand lifting from the artificial pavement and creeping towards her hair again, “Ohh, don’t you act so innocent.” His tone a lighthearted jeer.

Her eyes narrow at him sharply, warning him wordlessly as the hand around his shaft stops moving.

He squints back at her, but remits.

Mikasa waits a moment for him to still, then returns to stroking him with her hand in long, sedulous caresses. Her lips haunt him, just out of reach but close enough to feel her heated breaths flowing over his skin. His fingers dig into the pavement in anticipation. She deepens her strokes, feeling the warmth of his pressurized blood under her grasp. Eren loses eye contact with her as her eyes dart down to his waistline, her view shrinking as he feels her lips rise under and over his dome, head sinking through him. Her throat tightens around him as she feels his skin press against her.

She jiggles her head side to side, working her throat muscles over his head and pulling him into her throat until her lips press to his waist.

Eren groans, a rapid rise from a simple moan to an inclusive, even-toned wail.

Mikasa swallows, the muscles of her throat rippling up and down the javelin of skin in her throat. His fingers dig into the concrete again, more intense as the feeling engulfs skin and mind alike. Another swallow, weaving her throat’s muscles up and down him. She contracts her throat, pinching him between her hot, coated walls as she wheels her head back – building a tension between the tug of her throat and lips with the angle of him flexing against her throat and mouth. Her head tilts side to side, slow and deliberate.

She centers herself and repeats the roll, flexing him against his grain before twisting side to side again. Another center: but she doesn’t repeat. Her head presses forward until her lips reseal to his waist again. She scoops a hand of hot spring water from beneath herself and wraps the hand around his scrotum, adding a slight suction to her lips as she does so.

His thighs flex into her, mind soaking in the feeling of her labor.

Her hand massages him, smoothly shaking her head side to side to ebb away the last of his impedance, her tongue stretching and flattening out under his skin. She pulses her muscles again, sending a shiver down his rod and eating away the last bit of space between his consciousness and his climax.

Mikasa feels his thighs tighten strictly, his mass solidifying even more as the few drops of precum slide down her throat. She waits until the last moment, holding him down in the confines of her throat until the moment before the first spurt of semen shoots into her mouth. Allowing herself to sink into the water, withdrawing her head until just his head and a few centimeters of his shaft protrude into her mouth as his lower body spasms into her mouth. She reconnects her eyes to his and holds their gaze as his orgasm fills her mouth.

Three jets until his flow greatly subsides. The fourth petering to a stream. The fifth nearly empty. The sixth absent of fluid but still bringing the erotic feeling of his erection throbbing in her mouth.

She twists her hand up the length not covered by her lips, eking out the last drops of fluid still hidden in the tube leading to her mouth.

Another few drops trickle onto her tongue.

Eren leans forward, eyes still deadlocked with hers.

Mikasa quickly withdraws, keeping the distance between them even while swishing the salty semen around over her tongue, maintaining the same eye contact the whole way.

He nods his head upward, “Let me see.”

She sinks into the hot spring water until only her face is above the water, parallel with the surface as she looks over at him. She flashes her mouth open, sticking out her tongue to let his see the white cream pooled in her mouth.

A smile spreads over his face as he stands in the shallow water and still leaning forward towards her, “Now swallow.”

Her lips seal shut after a brief delay, her tongue withdrawing behind their confines as she silently swallows. Another brief moment passes as Eren leans forward, outstretching an arm toward her, clearly beckoning her to him for something.

She leisurely floats toward him, seeming to cooperate as he leans forward nearly far enough for their lips to touch.

But she disappears under the rumbling waves of hot water in the same moment.

And re-emerges a second later, spitting a hot jet of water into his face.

Eren snorts, blowing the dribbles of water from his nose. His eyes narrow at her.

Ignoring the only towel, he splashes into the water with her. Yelping at the unexpected heat underwater, he still manages to get his head through her legs and his shoulder under her butt. Grabbing her arms, he pulls her back and lifts her out of the water on his shoulders, exposing her body to the cooler air high above the hot waters.

She squeals at him, feeling the cool breeze readily wicking away the cozy heat from her body. Her arms wrap around her breasts, feeling the sensitivity of the cold bristle goosebumps over her skin. “Ahh! Hey hey, let me back in!” She flicks at his earlobe and jaw with her finger repeatedly in retaliation. She continues pouting, her hands slapping at his shoulders aimlessly, “I swallowed for you!”

Eren laughs, taunting her while dancing around in the hot water himself, bobbing her up and down in the air, “And I quote, ‘I’m thirsty.’”

She exhales hard, huffing loudly. He walks up to the edge of the pool, knees folding onto the shelf cut into the stone as he lines up her legs with the pavement neatly poured nearly to the edge of the spring. “ _You_ go get _my_ towel,” he unloads her from his shoulders. She cleanly transitions to standing at the edge of the pool.

She huffs again in exasperation, vaguely admitting some fault, “Finee…”

His hand snaps forward, a palm connecting with her butt just as she starts walking away. He falls back into the hot spring, a wry, satisfied grin spread wide over his face as the water rises past his chest to his neck.

Mikasa half turns back to him, a similar grin on her face as her slate eyes look at him through dark, dripping wet bangs.

Eren watches as she quickly skips over to the main entryway, an eye on her foot flitting upward along the open doorway as she leans behind the wall and grabs a towel from beyond his vision. The rest of her wet, naked body reappears a second later, quickly loping across the open ground in a flash as she tosses the towel to the side of the swirling water. She follows the stairs into the spring, melding back into the water opposite him.

His foot brushes up against hers in the deep water, head yawing back as he stretches his body underwater to draw up her legs. Their feet brush and graze past one another, teasing and toying with one another for a few breaths. Occasional yips and laughs chortle through the steamy air.

Until Eren leans forward, using the white frothing crests of water as cover for his advance. His hands lock around her ankles and pull her into him. She lets out a quick yelp as she suddenly feels his hands grip her and tug her underwater. Two seconds of reeling his arms in until her head pops up above the water beside him.

He sweeps himself aside, making room for her in his place since he pulled her in.

Mikasa slicks her soaking bangs to the side so she can see.

Eren’s fingers follow behind soon after, restoring her characteristic dusky trident with a warm smile. His fingers dip back under the water and skirt around her flanks, pulling her into him for a deep kiss.

Breaths pass as the kiss holds true.

The kiss breaks. Eren’s hand traces up the side of her jaw with his own smile, “Good morning, beautiful.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W and tags: Sexual harassment, jealousy, and creampie.

Armin points down the main road toward a corner on their right, “This way.”

Mikasa walks past Armin, ignoring his directions and stepping into a narrow alleyway beside them. “We can cut through here in half the time.” Armin’s lightheartedness drains away, looking into the sketchy alley, but follows without comment. His stride lengthens until he comfortably passes in front of her.

Eren tags behind the both of them, lackadaisically turning into the alley. He catches notice of a trio of guys about mid-way in the alley, loitering and mumbling something quietly to one another. Armin passes by them without acknowledging them, his posture tense as he keeps his senses trained on them despite being ahead of them.

One of the men drops his hand from the toothpick in his mouth, chewing it to a pulp. He eyes Mikasa up and down, “Eh? What’s a fine dame like you doing around here?” His toothpick hand gropes her ass just as she walks past the men.

A loud scream and several thuds sound in near unison. Eren looks up to see all three men sprawled out on the stone in a tangle of limbs. The idiot who groped her with a leg jutting upward out of the pile of bodies at such an odd angle as to only be broken at the knee.

Mikasa dusts herself off with both hands and continues without delaying.

Eren smirks at first, humored by Mikasa’s immediate response and by their stupidity. But then rapidly sours as he steps within reach of the men. He stands beside them for a moment, looking down at the assaulter with an irate gloom. A swift kick connects with his abdomen. “ _Baka_ … (idiot).” He spits at them. Then continues down the alley, increasing his pace to catch up with Mikasa and Armin.

Armin waits at the end of the backstreet, eyeing the pile of bodies just now collecting themselves from the floor. Mikasa has a band of red over her nose and cheeks. He puts his hand on her shoulder as she catches up to him, a sorrowful expression worn over his face. She says nothing. Eren catches up a moment later, a similar unpleasant look twisted over his features – but with an added inner turmoil against himself. He runs his hand up along her spine from the small of her back, then back down. He lets his arm linger around her waist for a moment, a gentle smile drawn on his lips.

She steps off first, the boys following a step behind as she resumes their business. Quiet minutes pass as they walk through the city. Gradual improvements in the wood and stone works supplant their shortcut through a poorer area of the city into a walled military zone. Destination: Hiziru Military Prep Academy, building 2A, meeting room _Fuyō Hibana_.

Armin reads the shiny, painted title on the door, hand closing around the handle as he confirms their destination. Eren steps through first, shortly followed by Mikasa and Armin. A row of officers sitting along a long table at the far wall meet their attention. Several other seemingly lower-ranked officers and enlisted personnel are scattered in seating arrangements along the periphery of the room. Their fragmented attention sweeps to the three new faces in the room. A number of gasps and wows follow their entrance.

Eren scowls, already sensing the uselessness of the meeting in advance of anyone actually talking. He takes a seat on the right of the table in the center of the room, shortly followed by Mikasa in the center and Armin on the left. No one says anything for a long minute.

The door opens behind them and several more officers shuffle into the room. Two of them join the trio at the center table, sitting on the flank ends of their table and opening several large notebooks.

A man with a deep voice but moderate stature sitting at the head of the large table opposite the group speaks up, welcoming the trio by name and title. He reminds the room of the already well-known accomplishments made by Eren, Armin, and Mikasa in the previous months and years, then settles his arms onto the table in front of him. Glancing around the room, his tone grows stern and more serious.

Eren sinks into his chair, his attention waning from the room and losing track of the man’s voice. Armin seems to do similarly, though maintains his upright posture as the man’s deep voice drawls into a monotony of beaurcratic preamble. Mikasa appears to keep her attention focused on the room and her posture straight, but her breathing betrays her growing irritation with the lack of a productive objective for being called to a meeting with some foreigners at the crack of dawn.

Sure enough, more than an hour and a half later, the group has done nothing but give some minor quips about fighting Titan’s with now-outdated technologies and in a world without any known Titan threats. One of the lesser officers on the panel askes the group another question, the aids aside the trio scribbling down the meeting’s minutes as they speak.

Eren yawns loudly and stands, pushing away the officer’s notes from his space. “You are a waste of time. None of this has any use. Why did you even bother calling us here?” his tone is low, but careful to keep any threatening edge out of his voice. Mikasa and Armin look at him with a sudden alert, unsure exactly what to expect of this round of Eren’s familiar, stubborn iconoclasm.

The room looks at Eren, suddenly taken with his pointed questioning. He stands facing the row of officers, irritated and unmoved.

“Eren…”

He ignores her.

“Tell me, what was the purpose here? Aside from wasting our time and disturbing our sleep?” Eren persists. After waiting all of two and a half seconds he pivots, walking back towards the door. “Yeah, that is what I thought. Bunch of babbling nincompoops squandering… for what benefit?” He finishes with a mumble to himself, venting an inner choleric swelling up through his mood.

He swings the door open and disappears into the hallway, leaving the room in a stunned silence. Armin and Mikasa glance at one another, considering their response.

Armin looks up to the head of the table, his face tightening as if expecting an actual answer from the man. But the man’s mood still appears to be disconnected with Eren’s insubordination, either shocked by the disrespect or genuinely not having an answer for himself. “Well?” Armin asks, leaning into the valid accusation with far more diplomacy than Eren. Mikasa’s look follows Armin’s, resting on the leading officers with the same expectation of some substantiation.

The leader settles back into his chair uncomfortably, saying nothing.

“So, you have no legitimate cause to call us here other than to review what you already know _and_ what you already know is no longer applicable?” Armin presses the point. Many of the officers break eye contact with Armin and Mikasa, mumbling among themselves or saying nothing at all. One officer on the right end of the table reconstitutes eye contact with the pair and gives a subtle pantomime, seemingly admitting to them that they were dragged into it, too – that there was really nothing to be gained from the meeting. Merely an exercise in ogling and starstriking.

Armin glances at Mikasa, a brief nod. Followed by a shrug and a relax of posture.

He pushes back from the table, the scrape of the chair echoing loudly through the room. A smart turn and Armin walks away. Mikasa lingers a moment longer, her eyes sweeping over the long table. She did have to admit that she saw no point in staying, especially since both Eren and Armin called them out on their beaurcratic aimlessness. Still, she is hesitant to leave her duty behind.

The murmur of the room continues, mostly confined to the lower officers around the perimeter. A handful of the higher echelons recede into their chairs.

Mikasa uses the silence of the main panel as an implicit, or at least as an effective, dismissal. She stands and walks toward the door.

“Oh, Madam Ackerman,” one of the high officers address her suddenly. She stops, partially turning back to them without moving her feet. “If you wouldn’t mind, I have some friends outside that would like to speak with you.” Mikasa’s eyes narrow, unsure what to make of the request. His tone sounds high, unsure and hopeful. Like it is not an official matter and is purely doing a favor to some close friends or in-group of his own. She gives no response and continues forward.

The door closes with a heavy thud. Armin is standing with his hands in his pockets beside Eren, who is leaning against the wall a short distance down the hallway they came from.

Before Mikasa can join them, two men sweep in from her left side and buzz with as many questions as two can fit in a shared breath. She is taken aback at their sudden advance, her hands raising as she digests their numerous questions and the obvious adoration they have for here.

Eren can pick out them saying something about her family seal. His posture straightens immediately.

Armin turns toward the men, uncomfortable with and skeptical of their ambush. Eren stands beside him, at full height and in a stiff posture. Armin does not need to look at Eren to feel his tension.

Mikasa answers a handful of their questions with short responses, enough to satisfy their interest but more so to try and placate them. Their questions continue for another minute as Mikasa inches herself away, gradually trying to part from the conversation.

“I really admire you, Mikasa.”

Eren and Mikasa both freeze. Armin looks up from fumbling with his shirt.

The man’s face is blushed, a shade red across his cheeks, nose, and even a touch on his forehead. His head turned down, just slightly. Enough to show deference, but still maintaining eye contact and a confident posture.

Mikasa’s face loosens for a moment, then quickly composes back to her phlegmatic self. “Uh, thanks.” But she doesn’t move. Until she feels an arm wrap around her side and grasp her opposite hand.

Eren tugs her back, spinning her around and pulling her away from her admirers. She says nothing but gives him a questioning look as her feet follow him. Ignoring whatever looks the men give him as one calls after her unsurely. Eren strides right past Armin too. “Go back to bed if you want, Armin. Mikasa and I will be behind you.”

Armin looks confused, raising an arm after them before stepping off to follow, “Eh? Where are you going?”

Eren speeds around a corner with Mikasa still in tow, scanning name plates and labels stamped or painted on every door in the hall. He catches glimpse of one labeled in native Hiziru language as “General” together with a native, unreadable name. One more glance down each hall confirms their isolation. The door opens and closes as fast and quietly as Eren recognizes the label and pulls the two of them into the room.

Empty. Save for a sturdy desk, two guest chairs, an office chair, and a wall-sized bookshelf opposite the door. Light floods in from the courtyard windows to the left of the door; a subtle tint of green drowning the room from the reflected light of grass and the drab, military-olive colored walls of an adjacent building.

_Perfect._

Armin turns the corner after them, but finds an empty hall.

Mikasa asks Eren what he’s doing as he quickly steps toward the desk, a long reach pulling one of the guest chairs from its place facing the elaborate desk. He twists it around and jams the backrest under the door handle, legs biting into the floor. One more twist of his wrist turns a small knob on the door handle, what is hopefully a locking mechanism.

“Ere-”

Eren briskly pushes her into the wall beside the door, dropping his head and sealing his lips to hers before the back of her head thumps against the wall. The pictures framed on the wall jostle as her body bumps into the wall.

Mikasa takes a fraction of a second to register his actions, but it falls into place just as quickly. Her interest piqued first by the single sharp, abrupt rip of a nerve striking up from the inside of her left leg. Then second and more fully by the trill of his lust and the danger of doing it in the high office of a foreign lead military figure.

His hand is already in her hair, a passionate embrace as her head is caught between his and the wall. Eren’s second hand firms around her lower waist, fingers scratching at the edge of her butt with unbridled ardor. He presses himself into her, deepening the kiss and touching more of their bodies together. Mikasa’s hands wave in the air at her sides, loose and unsure what to do with herself as she is overtaken in the heat of the moment.

Gradually as their kisses sink into her mind, her fingertips broach the mat of his hair. Returning the thoughtful embrace with a similar adulation while the feel of his lips tingle though the back of her neck and into her mind. The hand in her hair grips tightly, along with his other arm wrapping around the small of her back and pulling her into him with a flash of gusto.

A brief chirp of intrigue breaks from her lips, interrupting their fevered kissing.

Eren’s hands crisply withdraw, then sweep back in with the same fervency. His hand skirts down her side and squeezes her firm butt, pressing himself into her again. Their kiss reconnects with another step up in intensity.

Her eyes flick open, pupils shrinking nearly to a pencil point as her eyes dance between his in the electrical brume of her spontaneous elation. Eren breaks the kiss and grins back at her. He rests his forehead against her, letting both hands shift to either side of her hips as he rocks his weight between each leg. “Who’s my woman?”

The pressure of his hands grasping her sides solidifies as a gesture of dedication. A slight tug of his arms brush their lower bodies together again. Mikasa’s throat hums pleasantly, not needing to answer while her smile grows into biting her edge of her lip. Her hands sweep up his arms, loosely clasping together behind his head while resting her elbows on his shoulder as their eyes steady between one another.

She waves her body, bottom up to haste a little of her weight into him suggestively. His hands lock together behind her back, swinging the both of them around toward the center of the room. Kisses reignite, their necks burning from the passionate fury of locked lips as they stumble towards the desk together.

Their heated breathing fills the room with the only recognizable noise. Until Mikasa’s hip bumps into the corner of the desk and her teeth bite into his lip reflexively. His right hand breaks from her back and sweeps his forearm over the closest half of the desk, vigorously clearing off the various tools, trinkets, and decorations neatly organized over the desk.

Mikasa can’t help but snort humorously as the sharp crack of a glass pane breaking shatters the lurid calm of the room. Her grin lasts hardly a second before Eren reconnects their lips again, as focused and inclined as ever. As their bodies push and pull against one another, Eren scoots her butt closer and closer to the short edge of the desk with sporadic pushes and tugs at her hips as they break and reform their lips over and over again.

She can feel him moving her, centering her on the side of the desk. But she pays little mind as her head swims in the warm glow of their smooching. Her chest brushes up against his as she presses her kiss back into him, her arms contracting around his neck slightly as she embraces the growing warmth in her body.

Eren’s hands hook under her thighs and jump her onto the desk. The couple stops for a brief instant, paused as their eyes meet. Smiles leap up their lips. Then the fury resumes.

Mikasa’s legs wrap around his waist as his fingers bumbles with the restraints holding her pants to her waist. Lips brush and heat one another as Eren struggles to get her pants out of the way. She huffs after a minute, breaking the kiss and unclasping the restraints of her pants herself. A quick hop and shove draws the hem from her weight resting on the desk.

He hooks a pair of fingers on either side of her clothing and inches them down her thighs a bit more. Just enough to access her. Her fingers have already cut the distance between their waists and unbuttoned his clothes, leaving him with a quick pull to drag his weighted shaft from its prison. Mikasa pauses, eyeing Eren anxiously. He grins back at her splendidly.

A smooth, sure shove buries himself inside her. Her eyes flutter shut, the positively pleasant trepidation rippling through her core and mind. Eren leans into her, pushing her back onto the desk somewhat irregularly. But does not let it interfere with his rising pace. Mikasa’s eyes flutter open again, locking eyes with him as her mind steeps in the background of tepid joy – divided between the broad, encompassing ecstasy and the acute shanks of his erection stimulating her.

Seconds pass as their breathing simmers the air between them. Eren’s sharp jabs growing more intense and forceful. Two more breaths and he is stroking himself into and out of her at a steady, illustrious pace. Mikasa’s face contorts, puckering under the ecstatic weight condensing within her mind. A long coo leaks from her lips, her fingernails beginning to dig into the back of his neck.

He picks up his pace, leaning through her legs while resting his elbows at her sides and shifting his hands under her shoulders to grasp for leverage. Her legs clench around him, feeling the initial, fine edges of her climax spilling over her body.

A sharp crackle echos through the door.

A flush of cold sweeps through Mikasa as she looks at the door. Eren stoops over, covering her body with his, but refuses to stop his wheeling despite the chill in his spine. His right hand breaks from the desk, repositioning his arm to clasp a hand over her mouth. “Shhhh…” he whispers into her ear, long and slow as he pushes his pace even faster.

Her eyes roll around in her head. Mind foggy and catalyzed.

More rattling. A pounding on the door and some muffled speaking.

Eren persists. More thrusts, fast and vigorous. He feels her legs shutter, abs crunching together as an expedient euphoria rolls through her body. Her breathing ceases, drawn out into one long exhale. Moist heat flowing around his hand.

The racket grows louder, voice now at a shout as someone bashes against the door.

Eren pulls himself out and boogies back and forth to stuff himself back into his pants and secure their fit again. Wasting no time, he tugs on her, ripping her out of her haze and yanking her pants back up to her waist. A sharp breath of air fills her lungs and brings her back to the present as Eren leaps over to a window and unlocks the latches on the top of the sill.

He raises the window, just enough to climb through. Eren glances back behind him, checking on Mikasa. She’s just finished tidying her pants up. Her hair is fuzzy, but it will do, there are far more pressing concerns. So long as her pants are on right… they wordlessly make for the opening.

Eren ducks through the window head first, a quick squirm dropping himself into the grass below the window. He adjusts himself quickly, standing and lending Mikasa a hand as she wriggles through the window. Her feet meet the ground and their eyes grapple together for an instant, a quick blush and duck of their heads as wide smiles greet a chortle of giggling to themselves and dash off.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Eren closes the door behind them as they step into the apartment. Mikasa pivots around to face him and they stand in a moment of silence, each processing the events on their own.

Her posture shrinks slightly, suddenly a bit sheepish at their debauchery as she lightly questions its merit. But her thoughts are quickly interrupted.

In a step Eren is already onto her again, hands on her waist and lips locked together. He pushes them back, deeper into their temporary abode as Mikasa’s mind swirls back around full circle to a buzzing absorption in feeling Eren’s spontaneous and intense lust. A thump echoes through the house as Mikasa clips the edge of a doorway, an arm loping at the air listlessly in her growing haze. Eren wrenches himself to the side and unhooks them from the doorway, traipsing her backward toward the bed until they feel another bump.

His hands shoot down to her knees, buckling her legs from under her and pushing her onto the bed. He breaks their kiss and furiously fumbles with her clothing again. More successful this time around, Eren rips her pants from her legs in two quick jerks. Mikasa’s eyes keep with his, even as his attention removes the last barriers between them. Her mouth partially open, breathing heavily as the squalls within her strengthen and ebb against one another.

She backs away from the edge of the bed, creeping towards the headboard as Eren strips himself of his clothing and pounces onto the bed. In a single streak, he glides over top of her and inserts himself right back into her domain with a confident fullness. Her head cuts backward into the bedsheets, hair frizzling outward as the friction drags her hair over the bead spread. His hands streak under her arms and flatten out against the bed as he strokes himself through her, dipping his head into the crook of her neck. Lips and teeth brush over the sensitive skin at the side of her neck.

He works his fingers up the bed, stepping closer and closer until she feels the encroachment of his fingers teasing her shrinking peripheral awareness. A lucid smile trails her lips, a slight flash of teeth emanating her immersion before Eren seals their lips together once more. But his thrusts promptly break the kiss, probably intentionally given the perturbing strength.

Eren nuzzles the side of his face against hers, pushing her head over until he can rest his forehead near the crest of her head. His lips brushing against her ear, her black silken hair tickling his nose and cheeks. Smelling the neutral, yet completely potent scent and reveling in the feeling of it broaching through the nape of his neck and tickling his mind.

A stout drive makes her moan, loud. Her fingers curl over her chest, eyes briefly fluttering open to look at him as she feels their hair tangling together, his fingers shifting around until they hold onto her shoulder blades.

The next sounds send chills through her body, “Mine… Mine… Mine…” with each thrust. Thick, gravely. Determined. Assertive and elucidative. “Mine… Mine… Mine…” his lips brush over her ears again and again, soft with each word, hard with each thrust. He doesn’t notice the red blush seep through her cheeks and certainly cannot feel the ongoing current surging though her spine and chest.

Mikasa’s toes curl inward, her legs creeping up Eren’s sides as he draws up her waters with a tirelessness and soulful determination poignant only for her. Her moan breaks out again, eyes briefly rolling around as they catch sight of his one eye not buried into the black mass of her hair. His grip on her shoulders intensifies, his pounding increasing with a candid rumpus.

He can feel her legs rise up his flanks. Her arms combining under his chest. The hot, wet walls collapsing around him with a greater tightness. The increasingly distant, nonetheless completely present and connected look in the brief flashes of her eye. Her skin warm, but flushing cold through her rising waves of climactic tides.

Eren’s grip tightens around her again. Continuing his, “Mine… Mine… Mine…”

His pace breaks, slowing as he recognizes her head swirling in its own luminous dazzle. He allows himself a self-satisfied grin while her head swims absently. Still, he keeps some pace to feed the storm in her head. But after a few breaths he resumes his tirade, withdrawing nearly completely then smashing himself back into her with a rabid eros. Only a few strokes pass as his own orgasm overwhelms him, his objective accomplished.

Withdrawing only enough to keep his head edged into her as he throbs thick streams of semen into her opening. His head presses into hers, burying his eyes in her smooth hair and brushing his lips over her ear as he groans in his own euphoria – sending another distinct chill through her spine and a wincing smile careening through her face as it feeds her own satisfaction.

Eren jabs backward, letting a single, weak pulse of cum drip over her waist and abs.

He flops onto his side, breathing heavily. More from his emotional exertion than the physical one. His eyes lope, drawing their gaze to her face as he settles into the bed beside her. Wrapping his arm around her and flipping her onto her side to pull her back into him, he mumbles, “Minee…”

Mikasa hums, her lungs vibrating the air around the bed in a gentle aura as the hum grows into a consistent, joyful moan. She twists her head around to look up toward the ceiling, mouth partially open as she draws in blobs of fresh air.

Eren mutters something beneath his breath, timid and quiet.

She nods her head, scratching her head into the pillow, “Hm? What was that Babe?”

Mikasa feels him bury his face into her hair and mutters the same incomprehensible bit well below a whisper.

A fingernail scraps over her bangs, washing the hair from her eyes as she peers around at him. He unburies his face, catching her eye. Causing him to bury his face even deeper into her hair and into the bed in an immediate reaction. He feels her body twist, trying to turn to face him. But he holds her true. She adjusts her head beside a pillow brushing against the crest of her head. “Hmmmm?”

Mikasa hears him take a deep breath, somehow. Probably drawing in a mouthful of hair, then the ruffle of covers as he smushes his face into the bed yet again. “I’m prrrdd of uu.” Eren pouts it out like a spoiled, embarrassed child.

She blushes, biting her lip slightly. But he doesn’t see it; his face is still ploughed into the bedspread. Her blush and biting breaks into a tight-lipped smile. “Mmmhm.. oh were you being a little covetous with those guys fawning over me?” she deduces, running her fingers through his hair thoughtfully.

Eren’s arms tighten around her. Silent and firm.

The redness deepens, soaking into her face and chest unbeknown to Eren. Her fingers drag through his hair in a long stroke. “Thanks.. Babe.” A smile creases her lips candidly.

His face recedes from its hideout, eyes connecting with hers as the blushing persists. Mikasa finds her crimson resurge as she catches eyes on Eren’s own attendant flush coloring his face. His redness is much stronger than the pressure-white tint of pressing his face into the bed. It shows right through. A smile trails back up her face.

“For the record, though: I already knew you were proud of me,” her fingers comb through his hair thoughtfully again, eyes sparkling across the short distance between them as his grip around her loosens and she turns to face him. Eren’s face remains warm, but a moment of recognition breezes through him and he gives her a wide, toothy grin.

Mikasa impedes the warm smile with a tender kiss, her arm wrapping around his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now the shoe is on the other foot. I’ve got more ideas and requests for this collection than I can write out with the time I have! Lol…
> 
> Other news:  
> My Reader X Character AoT collection is up, titled “In Your Shoes.”  
> Please read the foreword if you wish to request anything, as I need some basic information in order to construct the story and understand any boundaries I may have in writing a request. Just a head’s up that it is a bit lengthy. The info points are also useful for those of you requesting for this collection or any others.  
> If you are uninterested or unsure if you would like to read/request, I’ve narrowed the foreword so that you should be able to read the first paragraph and continue onto the anthology to see if you want to engage with it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W and tags: BDSM, S&M, electrification, bondage, mild bloodshed, cunnilingus, mild knife play, cowgirl & reverse cowgirl, and blowjob.

“ _Ohayōgozaimasu!_ ” (Good morning!)

Eren grunts, looking up at her through the bright morning sunlight shining through the room. His brain acclimates to the morning, reducing the intensity of the perceived light sufficient to allow the details of her face to wash into mind. He sees her grinning widely, a jubilant awareness about her.

Mikasa flicks the covers away from him, standing up straight and perky, “Your turn, man whore.”

Still blinking out some of the morning shine, Eren retorts, “Eh, how about no?”

Mikasa raises a sharp brow at him. “Wasn’t a question. You agreed to it, and moreover, _it’s my turn and I feel like it_. So it’s happening.” She chirps happily.

Eren grins back at her, an arrogant grin beaming up at her, “Make me.”

She smiles, happy to find him putting up a useless resistance. Her hand steals away his phone from the night stand, pressing hard on the power button with a continuing, joyful grimace until the screen flicks out. His brow furrows, but is quickly broken as her hand tightens around his ankle and drags him right off the bed, effortlessly. Eren yelps as he thumps against the ground, quickly trying to catch up to her walk on his hands while the carpet burns over his back. Mikasa continues forward with a solid determination and indifference, her arm stiff at her side as the other drags him behind her. He catches his hands on the frame of their bedroom doorway, resisting her kidnapping.

Her momentum snags as his arms tense, pulling on the wall in a futile effort to escape. She swings around, her upper body solid and imposing. A hand sweeps over his head and firmly grasps a clump of hair as she kicks his arms off the wall, immediately turning to resume her pace. An unpleasant groan rumbles from his throat as she drags him away unceremoniously, his hands reaching into his hair to relieve the burden.

“Tsk! Damn woman, easy!”

Mikasa rounds on him instantly, jamming some purplish article of clothing into his open mouth. “Shut. Up. No talking. Only answering.” She is curt and firm. Her hand resumes dragging him to her lair. They pass through a doorway. Eren attempts to hook his feet on the edges of the frame, hopelessly. She barely notices the inconsequent bump in progress.

The room is dark along the periphery, a single ceiling light and fan in the center of the spare bedroom warmly lighting the center room with a yellow-orange light. A slow swirl of air curls around the room, the fan rotating on its lowest setting. Multiple cabinets litter the edges of the room, hiding their contents in the gloom and dark colors of semi-gloss stains and paints. Various outlines of exercise equipment and related tools break the even silhouettes of the four plain walls. One unusual seat rests off center near the middle of the room.

Mikasa tugs on his hair, dragging him to his feet as she stops beside the chair. “Clothing, off. All of it. Now.” She yanks the cloth from his mouth, tossing it onto one of the surfaces along a wall beside the door. Walking toward one of the cabinets against the wall to the right of the door, she stops short and turns 90° until he is presented with a minimum profile of her body while still watching him.

Eren hesitates, but responds quickly enough. Whisking his shirt over the top of his head and unbuttoning his pants. He kicks them away a moment later, but leans against the odd chair looking at her with a small, rebellious grin with his underwear still on.

Their eyes catch. Her eyes narrow at him threateningly, but he does not move as he aimlessly opposes her from the start.

She spins around, her hidden arm procuring a matte black wand with a glossy midnight-purple band striped down the centerline from a drawer beside her. Pivoting off her inside foot, her wand hand swings in a wide arc around herself until the tip scrapes over Eren’s chest. Just as her outside foot swerves around and plants solid to the ground in the center of the room. Her finger depresses a button on the wand.

Eren’s shoulders and pecks contract suddenly as a quick burst of electricity courses through the skin of his chest. He lets out a shocked gasp but remains standing.

Mikasa leans into him, pressing the point into his sternum and locking eyes with him again. “I said, ‘ _All of it._ _Now._ ’” Eren looks back at her blankly, washing out his rebellious instinct and instead remaining standing with his hands back against the chair to appear more submissive. She traces the wand down his centerline as he does nothing. Anxiety creeps in though his extremities as he feels the metal prod streak down his bare skin to his waistline.

His arms appear from behind his back, hooking under the sides of his underwear and dragging the elastic below his thighs wordlessly. The fabric falls past his knees to the floor. He stands quietly, waiting for her response. Or command.

She cocks a brow at him inquisitively. The pressure of the metal on his waist relaxes, the wand falling to her side. He eyes it carefully as she steps up in front of him. A finger traces over his right breast, down over the ruffles of his abs and across his waistline. Her eyes flick up to his, a light smile on one half of her face as her finger comes to a stop on his hip.

A perturbing silence purveys Eren’s sense of the room.

Mikasa doesn’t move. Her finger loitering on his right hip for a minute before anyone in the room breathes. “Eyes forward,” she flicks at his waist as she commands him.

His face gradually relaxes as she begins moving again, eyes focusing on the doorway. She swings the door shut with a loud clang and begins walking the perimeter of the room in silence, barely so much as glancing in his direction. Unsure if it is a test or if she is searching for something, Eren chooses not to move for the time being. Taking it as an implicit order. Still, his posture relaxes a shade, his hands finding the lip of the chair behind him again and settling some of his weight through his arms.

She stops beside the original cabinet the wand came from. Her fingernails rasp the surface three times, the hollow sound filling the room. Eyes sweep around the room and rest on his face. Eren catches the movement from his periphery and hesitates, unsure if he can meet her gaze. The subtle but not invisible movement does not escape her notice.

But he keeps his eyes forward. _Good._

Mikasa tiptoes up to him, standing barely more than breath away. The heat of her lungs rolls down his body, making him lean into her subconsciously. She forces herself to bite back the urge to nibble on her lip as she recognizes his instinctive response. A hand rises from her side, a single finger hooking and beckoning at him, “Look at me.”

Eren’s head tips down the few dozen degrees to look at her. He forces himself to look her in the eye, and not sweep up and down her body with his ticklish desire to check her out. Nothing happens for a moment. Her hand drops back to her side, parallel with the other arm as she stands straight.

“Take off my nightgown. No touchy-feely, just the cloth. No noise. Eyes on mine.” She commands him poignantly.

He hesitates, unsure how to both remove her clothing and keep eye contact the whole time. Still, he is familiar enough with the raven cloth coating her body to carefully pinch the fabric straps from her shoulders, drawing them away until they fall loose around her arms. Eren leans forward slightly, his head dropping down nearly even with hers as their eyes blaze through the minute space between their faces. A firm tug down the cloth on either side of her hips drop the black mass to the floor. Standing upright, Eren forcefully wills himself against the insatiable desire to look below her nose.

More disciple follows as he recognizes a graceful smile below his focus. She steps aside, using her planted foot to shoo away the clothing from beneath herself before retaking her position. Eren follows the movement of her head diligently.

She can see him flexing. His arms bracing around his backside, chest tightening. A constraining pulse surges through her as she resists her own interest in relaxing her form. His subconscious leaning returns, his body even more noticeably tipping forward. But the wrinkle of an eyebrow belies his conscious push, even if he manages to restrain himself from looking her over.

Deciding to work with it, Mikasa pirouettes slow. Taunting. Her shoulders complete 180°, square with his. She buckles slightly, intentionally letting her butt brush against his waist with a calculated lightness. Eyes no longer bound to hers, they roll around immediately, trying to choke back an open groan.

The embracing touch disappears as she walks away. His eyes flicker forward again, glad to feel the conscious trickle of pleasure fade away. Though, of course that does little to slow the swell of blood commanded by the impulsive response.

Mikasa makes a show of backing off far enough for his peripheral vision gather in the rest of her body.

Thin black straps cross over her front in a tight double-x pattern. One centered directly on her waistline. Another stitched over the pleats of her upper abs. An intimate glow of skin in the space between her legs catches his eye.

Attention lingering in the gap for a time, Eren’s eyes jitter back and forth over her nose: _reengage, Eren_. He manages to tear his focus back to intaking the points of her outfit.

Slow to resume, his gaze wanders to the tip of her chin, unwilling to look any lower after judging the plausible margin of error in his study. The lower x-band feeds into a pair of thick, heavy utility belts atop her thighs. Appearing to encircle the whole perimeter of her thighs, Eren guesses they hide tools on her flanks or back that he cannot make out from the distance and angle he is allowed.

Trying to soak in the details below her thighs yields nothing; she appears naked below her thighs. No ankle collars. No braces around her shins. Still, he strains to try and intake _something,_ expecting a stray adornment that may come around to bite him later.

But nothing stands out at him. Maybe what he sees is what goes.

_No. That can’t be right. She has more tools tucked away somewhere._

He shoves the thought to the back of his mind as he centers his attention over her upper body. Her abs’ x-band tagging backward into a bar parallel to the bottom of her breast cups, likely wrapping around her back in mirror to her front. Numerous threads of some dark, fabric-based cordage link the band with her bra in a wash of fibers. Feeding to a solid cover over the lower half of her breasts. Jagged edges adorn the top line of her bra straps, giving way to open semi circles around her nipples.

A thin, glossy band of a dark purple inline the contours of the substantial surfaces of her breasts’ cups and down the centerlines of all the other bands wrapped around her body. Except for the bands on her thighs. Least, not so far as he can tell. Their bindings are too far from the sweet zone of his focus to be able to ascertain they do not have a similar trail of dark purple ingratiated within the material.

She waits a few more breaths, allowing him the luxury of drinking in her outfit for a few more seconds. A twist of her hips and raise of her arm reaches for a mass on top of one of the dressers aside the door. Eren can see the familiar thin, purplish cloth that was previously stuffed in his mouth as a silencer flash around her face and neck. Tying it snugly around the back of her neck. Adjusting the fibers so the minimal excess drapes down her back and not her front.

Mikasa paces back to him, standing a bit off center enough to let her free hand grope his swollen mass without twisting one way or another. His eyelids jitter, clearly nipping back at the desire to enjoy her touch. A quick stroke upward draws more blood flow, the sponge hardening far more readily.

Eren’s eyes widen suddenly as he sees the blur of the wand returning to view. His lips purse tight, bracing for a zap that doesn’t come.

The tip presses into his chest again, her hand continuing to ease up and down his shaft. Her finger prominently displayed on the button, she commands him, “On the rig.” He frowns at her, but complies. Inching backward until he feels the edge of the chair with his fingers behind his back.

Easing himself down, he first sits on the hard surface. But her pressure and facial expressions clearly command him to lay back. A brief fall until his back touches the surface. She walks up beside his waist, hand still coaxing his sensitive skin. The wand leaves his chest, arm disappearing to her side.

He continues to keep eye contact with her as she bends her knees, wand arm turning under the chair. A few clicks sound from beneath him. The wand returns to his chest, pressing the tip hard into his skin. “Down.”

His eyebrows ruffle again, at first unsure what she means. Then he understands to put his back into it, flexing against the backrest. An unexpected wash of vertigo swirls through his head and chest as the chair he reclined in sweeps downward into a flat bench. The whole rig stops suddenly as it reaches the set position, jostling him around erratically as its momentum crashes to a halt.

Mikasa’s fingers trace around the edge of his head, furiously teasing the nerves in his skin. She watches his body rigidify. Greatly snipping back his response.

Her fingers persist, using the soft center of her finger tips to stimulate the smooth skin of his head. She leans forward slightly, looking down at him studiously. “No cumming. Whatsoever.” Eren abruptly feels the cool metal of the wand jab into the side of his crotch, buried between his thigh and hip. A single, fast zap electrifies the area.

Eren slams his head back into rig, shouting in pain. “AH! What the hell was that for!” The metal withdraws from his skin before he can finish yelling.

“I don’t need a reason.”

He groans back at her irritably, waist aching from the pulse. His lip curling as his head raises from the plane in challenge.

She catches his resistance immediately; her hand drops his skin and she steps up beside his head and glares down at him with the imposing ferocity that disintegrates titans. Her hands tense against the sides of her body, whole body stiff as a board as she dictates the law to him.

Eren is completely unfazed. His previously pained face breaking into a defiant grin, upper body rising from the table toward her.

Mikasa’s face lights up, graciously taking the challenge as a learning opportunity. She smiles, “But, now you _have_ given me reason.” Her free hand clamps over his mouth, smashing his head back into the table. The wand traces over the faint imprint of his waistband, shocking him through the whole stroke. His waist shutters back and forth as the electricity ripples through his skin and muscles. He groans heavily, eyes shut tight as he tries to drown out the pain. Her smile shrinks, but brightens as she watches his eyes reacting to the zapping.

She finishes off with two touches of the metal to his flank, each a few centimeters apart to spread out the feeling over more of his skin. Her hand leaves his mouth, but cups in front of his chin. “Spit.”

His eyes open, sweeping down from her face to her arm, seeing her hand. He ruffles his brow, not liking the potentials she’s expanding. Another shock zips through his thigh. Her tone becomes more forceful, “I said _spit_.” Eyes narrow at her, but his head lifts from the table and spits into her hand.

Mikasa keeps her hand at his chin for a moment longer, then slowly drags her knuckles down his body. Until her fingers part and wrap around his engorged shaft again. Her head tips up a tad, studying his response as she works her fingers over his skin with his own saliva. Eren presses the back of his head into the bench, gritting his teeth together. His fingers squeeze together, hands turning white as he fights back against her delicate, electrifying touch.

Her lips purse as she is pleased with his reaction. Fingers continue, coating the rim of his head with saliva in a tender circle. A pair of fingers jimmy against the skin below his tip, washing a sea of stimulation around within him. His control deepens, body tensing wholly. She tips her head back a little farther, an expectant grin creeping up her lips when she feels his erection stiffen more.

And he relaxes. Her hand withdrawn from his skin. A rush of air streams from his lungs.

Mikasa turns to face the table, pulling a wide nylon strap from a slat beside his left ankle. The lock snaps together on the other side of his ankle, holding it to the rig. She walks around the table and repeats the process with his right wrist. Eren watches her quietly.

A crisp snap echoes through the room, her hand leaving a red mark on his chest. “Eyes up, focus on the dot above the fan.” Eren squints for a moment while his eyes linger on her face. Then obediently seek out the mark she speaks of.

He notices the sound of some clanking and clicking near one of the dressers, assuming she is preparing something. But whatever she was doing is already complete, her hand wrapping over the top of his eyes. “I know you didn’t just try to look at me.”

Eren does nothing for a breath. Then smiles at her. She jabs the metal prong into his neck and gives him another jolt. His neck flexes into the shock, breaking the smile unconditionally and without the possibility of resistance. Still, it traces back up his lips after a chirpy grunt. The metal touches against his neck thrice, drawing a trail up his neck to the right notch of his jaw. A shock each bit.

That wipes it away, leaving him groaning quietly in a lasting ache. A loud crank vibrates through the table, ended by a heavy thud as the two bastions flanking his head withdraw from the plane of the resting surface. Mikasa steps up behind his head, letting her hand drop from his eyes.

His pupils shrink, eyes adjusting to the light of the room again. He tries to focus on the dot above him, but finds it difficult as the familiar blur of Mikasa’s figure stands above and behind him. She watches his lips purse tightly, debating on keeping composure. 

Mikasa steps forward. Just enough for her body to cover the top half of his vision.

It gives him a brief moment to examine the details of her utility belt: black, as originally expected. Except for a thin trace of purple along the bottom edges on either side. Multiple loops of an elastic material skirt the side of her thighs, running behind her beyond his vision. From his perspective he only sees one black mass on her left hip, mostly obscured by the boundaries of his detailed vision.

In any case, he doesn’t have time to make out further detail. She treads over top him, her shins wrapping around the buttresses now perpendicular to the table aside his head. The cool metal of the wand presses into his navel, his breath pausing. “Tongue only. No penetration.”

Eren doesn’t hesitate this time, tongue exiting his mouth and tracing through the smooth, wet skin of her valley. Up and down. Long, smooth strokes. But the wand’s tip still prods into his belly button.

His hands clench up tightly. Tongue continuing to draw through her for several bated breaths. She gives no response; not a lick of outward indication of his appropriate behavior or its effectiveness. A flash of panic spreads from the tip of the wand as she steps away from him, leaving his tongue hanging in the air for an unanticipated moment.

Mikasa walks back to the tabletop she was at before commanding his tongue. Eren intently watches her with his peripheral vision. The wand slips into a loop on her right thigh, hands working with something on top of the dresser in front of her. Two breaths pass as a similar clicking sound and a dull thump sound from the wood in front of her.

She turns around, cradling a cloth with a smallish ceramic bowl in one hand. He tenses, unsure what to expect from her. Her finger nail taps his chest twice. A short breath of air rolls from her nose, humored at the responsive wave of his facial muscles.

Mikasa dips her index fingernail into the bowl, collecting a coat of hot wax on her finger. She jiggles her finger in the air over his chest, letting a drop of the wax fall to his chest. A short, snipped grunt rumbles through his throat. Her finger dips back into the wax and rejuvenates the liquid on her finger. She streaks her finger over his eyes, drawing a bead of a deep purple wax the length of his nose. He blinks harshly, hoping to avoid any wax flowing into his eyes. But she is precise – the thin film rapidly cools into a line down his nose without flowing any other way.

Eren breathes evenly as he feels her finger and nail scribbling something over his abs. Finger first, seemingly depositing large quantities of wax onto his skin as she stoops over close to his body. Then her nail, scraping the cooling fluid into sculpted lines. He pays attention to her movement, using the timing to guesstimate a moment he can steal a glance at her.

Her face is focused on its task, guiding her dexterous hand over his skin with whatever message or symbols she has decided upon. Lips together, natural and soft. But he can see her biting the inside of her lip as titillating joy swarms through her. Eren snaps his eyes back to the dot as he feels her finger slow its drawing, eager to avoid drawing ire to his stolen attention.

A dot of her finger concludes her scribing, a dollop of wax cooling on his skin.

Mikasa’s hand clamps over his mouth. Burning wax splashes over his throat. He recoils, shoulders pressing back into the rig with a continuous groan as the liquid runs down the side of his neck and begins solidifying. She turns, the bowl hand moving behind her. A sharp arc flings the bowl through the air, holding the remaining drops of hot wax into the container via acceleration until it impacts his chest. The cloth withdraws after a moment, ensuring the bowl is steady.

She watches Eren’s eyes flicker, dribbles of wax forming a neat circle on his chest under the perimeter of the bowl. Though, the wash of wax over his throat is likely far more sensitive and present in mind. Her hand throws away the cloth behind her indiscriminately. The warm fingers previously holding the bowl wrap around his steady shaft. A long, taunting streak upwards dragging his skin with her movement as the heat of her fingers soaks into his skin.

His eyes roll around in his head, struggling to stay focused between competing sensations and dialectics. A small smile draws up her lips, observing his struggle. Then her fingers withdraw. Hand pulling an even wider nylon band from a slat beside his neck and drawing it over his throat until a sharp snap sounds as the end locks into the twin slat on the other side of his neck. The band bites into the drying wax caked around his throat.

Her attention scopes over his body, head to waist.

He cannot see it, but she can. And it feeds her smile.

_MIKA’S_

_MAN WHORE._

Scrawled over his abs.

A groan draws her attention back to his face as her fingers resume their taunting. Her fingers stroking him tediously, drawing up the mass of skin from the center of his shaft until her finger tips squirm around his head. She looks at him intensely, leaning into his vision close enough to make out the details of her face. He silences himself shortly thereafter.

Mikasa pivots and withdraws her hand in a single motion, stepping off to another cabinet. A brief rustle through the drawer acquires a black staff with a rubberized grip and a loop of blackened leather on the narrow end. She turns it over, inspecting the tool as she closes the drawer and walks back to Eren’s head.

The verge streaks into his focus, Mikasa holding the leather loop between his eyes and the black dot on the ceiling. She turns it over several times, rotating it in her hand to let him inspect its two sides. One, plain colored leather. The other, studded with several tiny metal pyramids, sharp and pointed. He wants to gulp, but refuses to give her the power.

The verge disappears from his view.

Quickly replaced by the blur of skin and bindings of her body standing over his face again. She presses the leather loop into his navel. “Same deal. Tongue only. No penetration.”

He hesitates. The pressure of the strap presses into him. Then remits, as he obeys.

Again, she gives no outward pleasure despite the gentle stir rounding in her head.

“Clit.”

Eren cranes his head back, struggling against the strap around his neck to reach his tongue up to the bundle of nerves on his blind side. There is enough give that it is not the impedance, his tongue is. He can barely swipe the tip against the underside of her nerves. She leans forward, enough that the tip of his tongue can sweep over the broad end of her clit, sending a shiver through her legs.

She holds still for a few breaths, allowing her eyes to float around in her head while he cannot see. Except, her breathing betrays her camouflage. The shallow, tight breaths eminent of her sexual pleasure. His tongue staggers its sweeps, jabbing up and down then across her. Mikasa feels the shift in his jaws as he grins.

The verge flips around to the embedded spikes. A sharp whip impacts his left flank, just below the wax period dried on his ab. Minute driblets of blood coalesce into pinpoints of red from the punctures. Eren groans through her, his grin disappearing into a painful grimace.

The hum excites her.

She whacks the leather band against his sides several more times, flipping the tool with each hit to stitch an assortment of blood dimpled patterns up his flanks. His wincing and groaning continue, growing with each hit. The vibration reverberates through her legs. Only encouraging her even more.

Mikasa switches the handle around, thwacking the smooth leather against his wounds. His abs cringe and flex. The hum emanating from his throat ceaseless; tangy in her sensitivity. The whips persist, growing in intensity as she keeps him in-line without words.

Then, just as suddenly, she stops. Eren’s tongue is left hanging in the air again.

No feedback. No clue if she enjoyed herself or if she got so much as a rise out of the forceful pain.

His head drops back to the rest, a weighty clunk sounding through the rig as he breathes. Chest rising. Falling.

She cranks a lever underneath him, the bastions returning to their even positions aside his head. He follows her gait, silently groaning to himself as he recognizes her swapping the whip for the wand. Her knee rises onto the table beside his hip, quickly throwing the other leg over his waist and straddling him with her back to his face.

Mikasa rests her weight on her shins, leaning back until her hair hangs into his face. He snorts, blowing away a few strands of hair tickling the inside of his nose. She shakes her head, showering her hair over his face again. The wand returns, point pressing into his right thigh, “ _No cumming._ No noise. No touching.” He can feel her glare, even while looking at the back of her head. His chest tightens.

Lightness flutters up through his chest, eyes shuttering as he feels her envelop him. Her walls grip him viscidly, the cells delighted to feel his erect skin grace by them. Sending quivers through her legs. The twitches do not escape Eren’s notice, but he does nothing. Merely laying, bound to the rig.

Her hips rise straight upward, bending his shaft at its midpoint. His arms twist and brace against the surface, a great rise in mental fortitude accumulating at the front of his mind as he attempts to ignore the alluring stimulation thrilling through his pike. He feels her weight shift forward slightly, consuming more of his skin within her.

Two, three strokes of her hips. Side to side. Front to back. Eating him up. Excitations streaking through her taught legs and buzzing in her chest. Her pace takes off, quick gyrations of her waist throwing in lateral movements with the front-back motions rippling him through her. The gait pushes past his would-be rhythm, making him struggle to keep a straight mind and obedient body.

Mikasa’s head rings. Her ears squinch backward, the ecstasy creeping through her skin into her head. Making her chest shrink and face recoil. Legs tingle, abundant over the top of her thighs.

Something brushes against her left thigh.

She rounds on him in a flash – sitting forward and reeling around on top of him with an impossible speed. Her shins plant into the table again, the wand hand streaming outward and presses the metal prod into his forehead with a piquancy. “ _The fuck you think you’re doing?_ ” Furious.

Eren’s eyes grow wide, focusing first on the purple gloss lined down to his forehead, then on the riveting woman sitting atop him. His left hand raises from the table, palm forward in a sign of peace. Their jaws open in tandem slightly, Mikasa’s hair falling over her face in clutches. Her stroking resumes, eyes still locked on him with her finger on the button.

He doesn’t move, keeping his unrestrained hand where she can see him. Her pace builds, slowly resuming its initial cycles. Eren sees her slate eyes blaze, the dull color betrayed by the amorous storm blistering through her head in a baleful intensity. His eyes refocus on the glossy band stuck to his head.

Her pivots subsume her. The froth washing well beyond her waist, energizing the lines of communication up through her body. Eren lets his hand fold back to the table, satisfied he avoided punishment for delaying his climax.

Mikasa’s eyes sink shut, overcome by a wave of euphoria chortling through her. Warmness envelops her – her extremities streaking off into an interdimensional distance as her brain tears them far off from her core. The free hand plasters over his chest, resting more weight on him as she yaws forward in a virulent haze. Her hips slow to a halt, sinking down his shaft but keeping considerable weight on his chest. Eren eyes her carefully, sure she is experiencing an orgasm but unsure of how much he can get away with.

A jump of electricity shivers through his forehead, his eyes twitching cross-eyed and brows scrunching inward together.

His lip twitches in anger together with a snarl, even as the wand retreats. Eyes relax and refocus on her face, still light and white from the rush in her head. Still aware of his plotting. A malevolent grin spreads over her face. “As if I wouldn’t know…” she counters without lexical prompt. It is all over his face. And the tension in his legs is a dead giveaway, too.

The button depresses and she sporadically draws a line down his chest, then jumps over her legs and touches the metal to his thigh. She watches him cringe and jostle as the charge flows from the wand into his body. A full cycle, down and back up his body.

Eren’s face is red by the time she finishes. Fuming.

She presses the button again and holds the wand into his navel for nearly a full minute. Her face lights up as she watches him squirm under her. The pain drawing enough of his subconscious away that his erection weakens within her.

A bulb on the button strobes red, out of battery. She checks the readout to ensure that the battery in the wand is, in fact, depleted. Yep… it is. Mikasa shrugs and tosses it away behind her.

The whip returns. Thirteen lashings over his pecks and biceps, swapping the strike head each time.

Eren’s fever grows. His lips turning an odd purplish color from the combination of not breathing and an irate mood flushing his head with dark red blood. “Fuckin’ _Bitch!_ ” Eren winces, blurting out as the last whip scrapes open a few itty-bitty holes in his left bicep.

Mikasa’s face perks up, taking the challenge. The metal studs press against his cheek, lash bending under the pressure. “You’re sorry, did you just address me?” She blinks innocently, her finger crooking back toward her lips. His eyes narrow at her with a dire glare. “One chance.”

Eren seals his lips. Refusing to speak.

A flutter of black metal in her other hand produces a familiar pocket knife, blade extended. His narrow glare loosens, trying to mimic boredom. However, not before the tip of the blade touches his chin gingerly. Thoughtful weight punches the blade through the skin. A single, minute dewdrop of blood swelling through the opening.

Eren groans through his throat, as if protesting. She lifts the blade, enough to keep the tip in the pebble of blood, but not enough to remove the lucid threat. His chin drops, slow and careful to avoid the point. “Whe’t em I evvn suhoostah’ call youu?” He mumbles out, not moving his chin.

The blade withdraws, a sharp flick of her wrist and fingers retracting the blade into its holster after wiping the miniscule blood residue onto his shoulder. She holds the hilt to her chin for a moment in thought. “Mika-Master,” she waves her hand in the air, immediately dismissing what she just said, “No no. Mik-aster.”

Eren looks at her, trying to suppress a laugh. “What?”

“You heard me.” The humor and lightness in her tone vanishes instantly, returning to her supereminent tone.

He shrinks, the imminent awareness of her threats trickling back into being. But he doesn’t say it.

She leans forward as his impending silence weighs the room down. Her eyebrows perk up, lining evenly as her attention focuses on his face. Eren tries to act innocent, but Mikasa is clearly having none of it. The blade flicks out of its stowage again. He gives her the same bored look, albeit somewhat truer this time. Holding the tone successfully diminishes her adamance.

“Fine. I have a new toy to test out anyway.” The blade folds back into itself and disappears from sight. Eren raises a brow after her, watching her rise and walk to a yet-unused dresser beside their exercise ball off to his left side. While rummaging around in the drawer, she challenges him again, “I still haven’t heard you say it.”

“Bite me.”

She snorts humorously, but does not let him hear it. “That can be arranged.” A curt shove closes the drawer with a snap, revealing a black donut shaped item about the size of her hand. Held to her face with a smile.

Eren eyes the object, all but asking what it is or what it contains.

She taps the plastic with a finger nail, “Oh this? This is piano wire.”

His look narrows, suspicious of trusting her answer.

Mikasa paces up beside him, still holding up the spool. She tips her head to the side, admitting a white lie. “Okay maybe not _piano_ wire. But wire nonetheless.”

Which only makes Eren even more suspicious.

“Would you like a demonstration?” She asks, too cheerily.

Eren laughs, cutting it short and answering with a firm, “Nope.”

She drops the spool onto his chest and scrapes a fingernail over one of his wounds, “Like you have a choice.”

Eren lifts his left arm and right leg from the table, reminding her the bondage is not total. When she gives no response, he shoots out his left arm toward her neck.

Effortlessly sidestepped. She bows back, whisking her head around his outstretched arm and biting her teeth into his forearm. A hand grabs his wrist to steady him as he shouts back at her in pain. Her teeth recede. “You did ask for it.”

He grumbles incoherently.

Mikasa’s hand drops his arm, taking up the spool and leaping into the air. Her shins crash down on his lower body, knees crushing into his chest. Eren’s eyes pop wide open, the blow knocking the wind out of him. She lets her legs skim to the sides, pinching at his skin as they fall to the table.

A thud rumbles through the rig as her shins bump into the surface simultaneously. She pinches at something in the spool, drawing out a length of wire a little longer than her forearm. A small, sturdy looking wire cutter appears from a housing somewhere in the spool. Snipping the wire, she dangles it over his chest. Slowly, his chest begins expanding again, drawing air into his paralyzed lungs.

The wire is pretty stiff, but malleable. Eren can’t make out any appreciable details other than it being a very dark grey color, of an oddly diamond shape. Her hand blocks her face, but only lasts a moment longer as she shifts the wire away from their line of sight. He eyes her uncertainly.

She repeats the pinch, producing two more wires of similar length. Laying the first two on his left side. Her attention on snipping the last wire, she sees his fingers creep over the closest one within reach. “You sure you wanna do that?”

Eren’s face sours. She shrugs, clipping the last wire.

“You’re about to find out either way.”

She scoots forward slightly, stringing the wire around his left bicep just below his armpit. It tightens around his arm. Oddly sharp…

Numbers two and three quickly follow, roughly three centimeters between each band. Eren finds the edges of the wire strange, but his mind only lingers on the awareness for as long as it takes her to finish knotting the three bands around his arm. Her feet rise over his hips, feet brushing against either side of his softened shaft.

His mind’s eye breezes down to his waist, focusing on the feeling of her cool feet stroking him. Her head is tipped back, eying him with interest. Watching his response.

Mikasa settles herself on him, resting her waist and chest on his. Head on his shoulder. She hums pleasantly, feeling his warmth radiating through her. Eren breaths steadily, more force needed to rise the weight that happily attached itself to his chest.

Silence purveys the room. Mikasa does nothing but listen to his breathing. Merely stopping her stroking, but still shore up her feet around his spongey mass.

Eren bites his lip, free hand raising from the table. She feels his shoulder shift behind her, but lets him have his moment. It won’t last long and it comes with consequences.

His hand palms her butt. Fingers cupping under her skin, palm resting on the polished leather of her dominatrix gear. Mikasa permits the grope, secretly enjoying the insurrectionary affection in the back of her mind. Judging her head and hair curled inward enough to keep him from seeing, she even allows herself a joyful smile. Despite her care, he can feel her jaw tighten.

Then the control descends again. She rises from his chest, arm planted into his sternum with firm pressure. “Had your fun?” keeping her tone neutral.

Eren beams at her, ignoring the implied menace.

She produces the wire cutters, brandishing them in front of him for a moment before synching the center pair of tied wire ends into a pair of special notches in the crux of the cutters. The tongs close around the wires, tightly trapping them in a pair of grips. Mikasa beams back at him, ready to watch the consequences flush into his mind. Painfully.

A square twist tightens the knot around his arm. The blades of the wires make their presence known, biting into his arm ruefully. The thin measure of skin adjacent turns white, then red as the infinitesimal teeth cut into his skin. Exposing his flesh.

Eren yelps, arm recoiling and his biceps flexing. Only serving to exacerbate their snell bite. His eyes flicker, first struggling to look down at his wounded arm. Then only after recognizing the futility, back up to hers.

She gives no remission, quickly gripping the lower band with the cutters and repeating the taut. He yelps again, managing to bite back the noise level a bit more this time. And then the last, closest to his shoulder. His eyes blaze at her, but otherwise gives no response to the final strain.

“Going to be more cooperative now?” she catechizes him eagerly.

A mild twist tightens the topmost band, exposing another layer of flesh to elicit a response.

“ _Hai…_ ” (Yes…) his tone his thick, as if struggling to find the words.

She raises a brow at him, “‘Yes…’… what?”

He would have to try to stifle a laugh as he thinks of it again, but the sting of the wires’ blades cutting into him wash away that step. “Yes, Mik-aster.”

The tool withdraws after unwinding the topmost band to the point it no longer cuts into him. “Good. Because your ear is next.”

Eren scrunches his eyebrows at her, disputing the need for such filigree. She catches his look mid-turn. Her attention recenters to him. Staring him down, leaning forward and expanding her chest until she sees the flicker of obeisance reassert itself in his demeanor. Not satisfied, the clamps synch around the topmost wire again.

Forehead tight, he doesn’t move. Watching her carefully. She leans forward a bit more, her weight transitioning to the fingernails nipping into his chest. Unsure of exactly what she is wanting, he contracts his head toward his abdomen a bit. The cool wax shell under the nylon neck strap crinkling and breaking up under the corrugating skin.

Apparently, it has the sought after attributes. Mikasa unhooks the tool from the wires, stowing them back into the spool. She places the plastic container on his right side.

Eren’s eyes wander back to the dot on the ceiling, choppily obscured by the turning fan blades.

Her hand smushes into his face, turning his head to the right and squishing it into the tabletop. “No noise. _No cumming_. No touching.” She commands him again. Her weight shifts backward, then surges forward again as she reminds him. “ _Ear._ ”

The other hand whisks around behind her, quickly stroking the underside of his cock until he rises to attention. Keeping her weight on his face, she gradually recedes until she feels the skin of his head brush against her inner thigh. She uses her legs to guide him in, still stroking him a bit with her fingers to keep the blood flow growing. A solid drop of her hips presses his head into her.

Eren draws a sharp breath under her hand.

Her hips sink down his length, her weight redistributing backward as she rebalances to ride him. Hands walk backward, relieving the pressure from his face and blanketing over his abs. She rocks her hips side to side, rubbing his head through her to stimulate herself. It causes a twinge of her eyes as her mind is overcome by the trepidation.

Mikasa continues, weaving her waist around him in more intricate, lopsided circles. Sinking him deeper. Deeper into her abyssal confines. Streaking more and more nerves in her. Through her.

Her fingers ripple over his chest, no doubt a confused combination of conscious and unconscious signals sent from her chaotic head. But her writhing does not abate. No, it intensifies feverishly.

Wide arcs grate his head over her inner nerves, back against the inset endings sending furious signals through her spine. Causing visions of non-existent colors to coalesce in her mind, vision clouded inconsistently as her eyes close and focus on the feeling ebbing through her. Her waist tightens, inner muscles contracting in the early expectations of a euphoric climax.

Eren’s chest quivers, a deep breath exhaling as he struggles to comply with her order: _no cumming._ His fingers pinch into his hand, nails drawing white lines in his skin.

Mikasa has no such trouble. Her mind floats free, lost in an ethereal cloud where her body is near-weightless. Hips still locking back and forth, but without friction or care or worry. Hips warm, radiant. Embracing internal eternal structures that coax her mind from her body, seeing herself from a third person as the colors combine into a familiar pair of figures in a familiar, intimate pose.

His neck cranes sideways, using the burn of the wax and nylon as a distraction. Flexing his bicep into the pair of edgy wires.

She still has no such qualms. As the opposite bender sweeps through her body in a flash of cold. Her arms shutter, goosebumps flowing over her skin from their extremities. Knees clench around his sides, uncommanded and delirious. Heat sweeps through to wash out the cold flush. Followed by more heat. Her temperature raising to a cold fusion inferno. The stiffness in her arms drains away, folding partially as her weight rests on her legs and his waist. A shutter ripples though her again, hips jimmying around his erection causing more cascades of titillating pleasures banding through her body.

Eren lifts his hips from the table, desperately trying to get her off before he cannot control himself. His mass plunges deeper into her, somehow just enough of a self-control to keep himself from exploding. But more than enough to propel her lack of control even further.

Too much to respond to his plea.

He shifts his hips, whimpering. Fearful of her wrath when she comes to again and discovers his complicit failure. Rotating his right hip into her to part their mated connection.

It works. His head drags back through her, exciting yet more nerves on its exit. Eren feels himself flop, gravity claiming its supremacy over her control with a soothing relief he never thought he would be so grateful for. He breathes heavily, a near pant as light films of sweat conjoin on his brow.

He drops his butt back to the table, letting her crash down on top of him. Fine. So long as he doesn’t have to endure her emphatic stroking…

Mikasa drops out of her frenetic cognizance. Her body acting as if a deistic being levitated her body upward for a moment before restoring her soul and sentience to her body.

She blinks, distantly. Real photons pouring back into her pupils.

Her focus leisurely drops to his face. Eren winces, somehow expecting some retaliation or assault. But it doesn’t come.

Mikasa’s weight simply wags back and forth over his hips as her mind still appears more distant than her open eyes. She mutters something to herself that Eren cannot understand.

Breaths pass in silence. The only sounds in the room being their breathing and the quiet hum of the fan’s motor.

Eren watches her with a restrained interest as she dismounts him to his left. She snaps the nylon band around his left wrist, then walks to his feet and pulls the strap on his unrestrained ankle into its adjacent lock. He groans to himself, hoping the cycle of anguish was nearly over.

She disappears from sight for a moment. A clunk echoes through the room as a pair of footrests jut out of the table below his feet. Her arm appears from under the table, pointing down at the bars below his feet. Eren takes a second to process her gesture, but figures she means him to rest his feet on them. He shakes his body a bit, shuffling downward until his feet touch the metal jutting from the rig.

Followed by some unseen mechanism tightening the bands around his extremities. Quite firm. The weave of black nylon burning into his skin. A light groan leaks from his throat. She stands immediately and glares at him with wrathful eyes. He shrinks, immediately choking off the noise.

Mikasa continues glowering at him for a moment longer, but returns to some work under the rig. A sharp clink, two clunks, and a series of gears sound from underneath him. She stands partially, her arms grasping something under his side. More gears sound as she pumps on some lever, the rig lifting several centimeters into the air then inclining forward a few degrees at a time.

A few quick, hard thrusts have the rig at a 45° angle to the floor, foot-bars nearly touching the deck. The spool slides off the table near his feet. Another three cranks have him at a 70° cant. Most of his weight still rests on the rig’s surface, but he does need to wriggle his toes and feet a bit to keep them soundly rested on the supports beneath him.

Eren flexes his neck, trying to rub away some of the discomfort via control. His head shifts as she steps around in front of him. The whip draws out from her gear. She presses the metal studs into one of the wounds on his left flank, light, but firm enough to serve as reminder.

“ _No cumming_ ,” she repeats for the fourth time.

He does not like her tone… it isn’t malevolent, or at least not overtly malevolent… but there is some edge to it that does not sound.. congenial. Vitalizing.

The lead flips around and drops from his skin. But only for a moment – the leather brushing against the hairs on his left leg as she takes a leaden step toward him. Leaving one foot behind the other in a deliberate tension.

Eren evades looking her in the eye as she approaches. Except, moreover, he does not dare _not_ look her in the eye… She notes the look of unsettled agitation on his face as the leather creeps up his thigh a bit, dragging her other leg forward with the same golem-like cumbersomeness. Even drawing a seemingly neutral smile up her face in response. His jaw tightens slightly.

Mikasa’s free hand wraps around him, a long, stout pull inducing his full attentions once again. More strokes. Slow. Provident. Until his face denies the obvious erection in her hand. She tips her head to the side like a curious, innocent dove. He doesn’t buy the inculpable glow for a second, knowing full well she has some path forward.

But what that path is, exactly…

She whacks the flat leather against the minute wounds on his legs, hard and fast. Eren winces time and time again, but manages to suppress any yelling with strained facial muscles. Falling to her knees, eyes in contact with his until she is too far down to maintain any meaningful exchange, she begins her next phase. Her hair tickles his inner thighs, hot breath lolling through the air over his legs. A warm breath directs itself at his sensitivity. His legs tense.

Her tongue juts out, grazing along the underside of his shaft. His lip twitches without notice. Lips kiss against the flank of skin in front of her. Tongue streaking out, wrapping around the far side and dragging a trace of saliva back around under him. Eren’s arms strain against their restraints.

The trails of her hair laggardly shift around him, swapping from one thigh to the other.

She repeats the tease; tongue wrapping under and up his erection, then dragging back into her mouth. A few light kisses. Her hair curtains over his staff, looking up at him while resting her temple on his waist. He can’t see her, but that hardly diminishes the taunt. Mikasa groans at him, letting the rumble vibrate through him as her stroking decreases.

A few breaths of silence pass as her fingers come to a full stop and retract.

Broken by a yelp as she thwacks the metal studs into his chest a few times. One of the hits contacts a shallow bone and sends a tangible ripple through his body into her head. Eren yelps, in pain at the contact with bone. Her lips slip over his head. A gentle pressure vacuums him in. His groan of pain muddles with pleasure.

She deepthroats him, sinking right down his length until her lips seal around his waist. Her head tips back, bending him in her mouth and throat while mimicking a swallow. Eren’s eyes shutter, the pleasureful sensations dancing over his thighs into mind. He tries to look down at her, but the restraint around his neck prevents him from tipping his head forward more than about 15 degrees. And so, he is left alone with his senses.

Mikasa withdraws, her tongue lagging behind as she drags her lips backward over his skin. She flicks the tip of her tongue through the crease in his head a few times, eyes up on his chin as she watches his reactions. Pleased with her progress, she repeats the motion. Sinking all the way down until his mass tickles the back of her throat, rippling her muscles around him, then dragging her tongue behind her lips as she retreats.

His hands clench tightly, evident of his growing desire. She looks at his hands, white under the pressure. Calculating more torture, she sinks right back down him. But holds herself down this time. Her throat rippling muscles and head gyrating side to side until she feels his lance stiffen to a nearly full embrace. A few drags of the tip of her tongue brings him right up to the limit of his resistance, his body shivering as the peak looms large below him.

Her mouth opens wide and she pulls away abruptly, giving as little contact as she can manage.

Mikasa stands and walks toward the door. Eren looks at her in surprise and irritable angst, precariously edged up to his climax then completely skimped. His lips twitch again, a second before releasing a torrent of expletives and complaints at her departure.

She paces up to the door nonchalantly, turning the knob and looking back at him wryly.

Ignoring his tirade, she flips the whip around, catching it by the tip folding into the leather end. Then tosses it at him, the dense rubberized grip bouncing off his nose and onto the floor. The impact shatters some of the dried wax on his nose, fragments falling onto his lip and ricocheting off his body.

It shuts him up for a moment as he scrunches up his face. In the moment it takes him to refocus, she’s gone. Door shut behind her.

Eren fumes silently. His fingernails cut and tug at the nylon around his wrists. Futile. Locked.

Nothing but the dull thrum of the ceiling fan and his breathing fills the room. Seconds pass into minutes. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty? His waist feels heavy from the failure to release a pent up orgasm.

The door opens with a quick swirl of air curling through the room. Then shuts behind her sharply.

Mikasa stands resolute in front of the door, glaring at him intensely. He eyes her back, with an obfuscated fury. She waits patiently, observing him. Eren simply breathes, or tries to portray such focus.

She paces up to the rig and fumbles with something behind him. A terse turn and she walks back to her position by the door, a line trailing from her finger.

Squaring up facing him, she raises the eye loop hooked around her finger. Then gives a quick tug.

The nylon bands around his neck and extremities retract vigorously. Unlocked and reeled in. Eren rubs his wrists almost immediately. Then looks up at her and steps off the footrests, standing to his full height at the base of the rig in an attempt to appear imposing. A similar wry flash of a grin spreads over his face and he takes a full, confident step toward her.

Only to have his legs nearly buckle under him. His energy sapped and drained away far more than he expected from merely lying on the table… chi sapped away from the numerous cellular holes stitched through numerous points of his body and the still-present razor bands around his left arm. Eren draws a deep breath as he recollects himself and looks up at her, his posture weakened.

She grins back at him wickedly, “Oh? You want retribution?” Mikasa chuckles warmly, “I don’t think so.”

He groans defiantly, “Oh, yes. I will.”

She shrugs slightly, “Maybe. But you’ll have to wait for that one.”

Eren gives no sign of submission, only attempting to regather his strength while standing there, facing her down. The awareness of his breathing begins to catch up with him, labored and retarded. She begins to turn back toward the door, “Clean up your mess.” But she catches his movement, a lean towards her. And rounds on him just as quickly. The folded blade disengaged from its holster as she steps up to him, pointing the tip into his sternum. Mikasa gives him an expectant look, a gentle tilt to her head impressing upon him her desire.

His face mellows, disgruntled. “Fine.”

She raises a brow at him.

“ _Fine,_ Mik-aster…”

As corny as it sounds… he can’t help but feel a minor attachment to it. Eren suppresses another laugh, at himself.

Mikasa waits a moment, still holding the point to his chest to judge him.

Then the blade disappears as quickly as she had left. She swiftly walks right out the door, leaving it ajar behind her.

Eren takes three and a half minutes to cut the wires bound around his arm and clean the room. He eats another three minutes trying to figure how she worked the quick release. And another thirty seconds resetting the rig, after putting away the wire coil, setting the wand into its charger, and stashing the verge.

He limps out into the hallway, heading for their master bathroom. More time passes in near silence as he washes the mixes of dry and wet blood and cooled wax peppered around his body with a hot washcloth. He pauses to try and read her wax inscription, but her rampaging distorted the message or symbol well beyond recognition. Drying himself and steping into some light clothes, he leave the bedroom.

Eren walks out into the living room and finds her sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix on the Roku hooked up to the TV. She is out of her gear, wearing something akin to black yoga pants and a loose, lighter colored t-shirt. Her attention still mostly on the TV, she turns her head toward him as she hears him groan and walk around the corner of the couch.

He collapses onto the cushions, dragging himself forward until his arms wrap under her legs and behind her back. His face rests in her lap, buried between her legs and waist using her as a pillow as another long groan leaks from his aching body.

She smirks, her nose crinkling with a tickle to it. Her hand runs through his hair.

“ _Bitchh.._ ” he groans into her.

Mikasa tugs on his hair, lifting his head from her lap and dragging it aside until she can look down at him with mutual eye contact. Wearing an enlightened expression, she reminds him she is still in control.

He rolls his eyes, saying nothing more beyond letting out a hum from his lungs. Her hand relaxes its grip and his face returns to its rest in her crux. His warm breath heats her core, making her chest buzz a little again.

“Enjoy yourself?” she asks him.

She can feel his eyebrows scrunch up, “ _NOoo._ ”

_Maybe. Yeah.. Slut…_

Mikasa grunts, laughing at his feigned denial. Okay… maybe not complete denial. But nonetheless…

A few minutes pass as she continues scrolling through their watch options. Eren paying no attention to the screen whatsoever.

“So, how many times did you come?” Eren mumbles through her.

She muses out loud shortly. Then bypasses him, “Don’t worry about it.” Fingers run through his hair again. He groans back at her, unhappy with a non-answer.

“What did you write on me?”

Mikasa smiles brightly, thinking back to the scribbling. He feels her abs shift side to side, but she does not answer that either.

Something more grumbles, but she does not catch the details. Another moment passes by and he turns his head toward her waist, his mouth free to speak into their warm, ambient air. “Better have been worth it.”

She snickers and digs her fingers into his hair again, “Oh, yes. Definitely.” He catches her self-satisfied grin and takes it as enough of an answer to merit his pain. Eren closes his eyes and rests in her lap, falling back to sleep within a few minutes as she finally selects something to watch.


End file.
